


Meet Me On The Battlefield

by Camelot_Karamels



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Daxam, F/M, Krypton, Kryptonian Culture & Customs, Kryptonians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-13 16:45:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14752563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camelot_Karamels/pseuds/Camelot_Karamels
Summary: An unexpected bond forms between a Kryptonian soldier and a Daxamite Prince. But with their worlds still at war, will their relationship bring about peace or only more bloodshed? (Inspired by the song "Battlefield" by Svrcina)





	1. When First We Met

Kara moved slowly, as her legs were still burning from the events of yesterday. A Daxamite soldier had managed to cut her calf nearly in half, and while the healers had done a great job in fixing it back up, it was still sore when she put pressure on it. The healers had warned her that it would take a week for the muscle to be back to normal, but they had not even bothered to tell her to rest. They knew, just as she did, that there was no time for rest anymore. Every person, from the smallest child to the oldest adult, had to do what was needed of them for The Cause.

It was not as if Kara resented dedicating her life to this war, afterall it was all she had really known. She had only been twelve when the wars had begun again. Some had even thought their planet was going to explode back then. But they soon realized the earthquakes were truly caused by Daxamite explosions. They had been illegally mining Kryptonian resources, and recklessly. And that’s when the war began. Their world survived, and everyone continued to live in order to fight against the Daxamites. As the months turned to years, all Kryptonian resources switched from preserving culture, to preserving life. The war consumed everything now, and Kara - like so many others - often felt like the war was all she would ever know.

Thus, here she was, moving through a canyon to scout if any enemies from yesterday’s battle still lurked nearby. Moving instead of resting with an injured leg, because there was no time to rest anymore. No time for life, really. And that was why she was in the military instead of studying somewhere and writing stories like she had always wanted to. She had joined the military when she was twenty (later than most), and in four years had already made it to Captain. But she still was determined to “get her hands dirty” unlike some of her colleagues. If her one of her scouts were injured, she would always take the responsibilities herself. Currently, her scout was being cared for in the healer’s tent. Thus, she was out here scouting herself.

The hill she was climbing was rocky and Krypton’s red dust swirled around her feet when she moved. Most of the bodies had been cleared out already, thankfully. But there was still one or two that she came across on her scout. It always disturbed her to see how young the Daxamites were. Many of them looked to be barely fourteen. At least Krypton had a strict law that no one under the age of seventeen was to be on the front lines. The barbaric Daxamites clearly did not have a standard for the age of their foot soldiers. 

As Kara moved through the cracks of the canyon, her leg started to burn even more. Eventually, she found she had to rest for a minute as the pain was going to cause her trouble if she kept ignoring it. She knew full well that she needed to be ready for an attack at any moment, so she took a moment to rest her injured leg.

Finding a little alcove where she could easily hide if necessary, she sat herself on a rock and massaged her weak muscles. She rested her head against the rock wall behind her, and closed her eyes - keeping her ears pricked for signs of danger, of course. It had been so long since Kara had been able to relax. Despite her being stationed only a twenty minute ride in a pod from the capital, and her home, she had not been back there in almost a year. To be truthful, she was war-weary and simply wanted to go home. But she knew her duty as well, and her determination to keep her people safe pushed her to keep fighting.

Suddenly she heard the sound of shifting rocks, somewhere just ahead of her in the ravine. Kara sat up and listened more closely, a hand hovering over her blaster. When she heard it again, she jumped to her feet and drew her weapon, ready to shoot whoever came around that corner.

There was another thud, louder this time, and what sounded like a hiss of pain. She waited a few moments, unsure if whoever had fallen was going to get up again. When she heard no further movements, she peaked around the corner, her weapon held in front of her. But when she saw the man lying in a growing pool of blood, she hesitated in shooting. This man was not long for this world it seemed, so she did not feel the need to risk exposing her position by firing. Yet.

When she took a step towards the prone figure, he seemed to realize someone else was there. Pulling out a knife, he pointed it at Kara and tried to give her a warning glare. His face was so twisted with pain and fear, however, that the glare looked more pathetic than anything else to Kara. One look at the knife told her one thing for certain, this man was a Daxamite soldier, not Kryptonian. All weapons from Daxam bore the crest of the royal family (a rather gratuitous show of power, Kara always thought), and the hilt of the dagger clearly had the royal blue crest on it.

“Don’t come any closer,” the man warned, sounding rather out of breath. He surprised her by speaking Kryptonese, though he had a clear Daxamite accent.

Kara tilted her head to one side. “Or what? You’re clearly here alone, and I have the superior weapon so it’s you who should be worried,” she retorted.

The false confidence on the Daxamite’s face faltered at that. He lowered his weapon and shut his eyes then, his arms wrapping around his thigh again. Kara noticed then that his leg was where the blood was coming from. “Just make it quick then,” he said as he struggled to sit up against the wall of the ravine.

Kara faltered then. With him looking at her, pain clear in his face, blood covering most of his body, and a resigned look in his eye; she found it hard to keep her blaster pointed at him. He looked like he was barely older than her, and she suddenly wondered how much the war had stolen from him. Was he missing home like she was? But those thoughts were ridiculous, because he was a Daxamite, and that meant he was the enemy, a monster.

Still, she could not find the anger in her heart to kill him when he looked just as miserable in life as she was. He was nothing but another person, trying to survive another day in this war. “What’s your name?” Kara asked, letting her hands drop to her sides. Though she kept her blaster in hand, as a precaution. 

The man scoffed bitterly before coughing and flinching in pain from the movement. “Why? So you can add it to your list of kills?” He gave her a dubious look. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Kara holstered her weapon then, as a sign of trust. She put her hands up and knelt down so she was eye level with him before saying, “My name is Kara Zor-El, I’m a captain in the Kryptonian infantry.” Lowering her hands, she put one out toward him, and after a moment's hesitation he shook her hand.

“Mon-El of Daxam,” he said, wincing again from the movement of shaking her hand.

“I’m not going to hurt you, but can I see your leg?”

He nodded, and Kara moved forward to look at it. She could tell that an artery had been nicked, because there was far too much blood otherwise. However, if she did not stem the bleeding soon, he would likely bleed out and die shortly. “Give me your scarf,” she told him, holding out a hand for it.

He slowly undid the knot and slid off his neckerchief. “Why exactly?”

“I’m going to use it to hopefully stop the bleeding, for now,” she explained as she wrapped the scarf around his upper thigh and tied it securely to cut off the blood flow as much as possible. Thankfully it seemed to work. “Alright, I have to get some medical supplies or a healer out here. Moving you would be too dangerous,” she said and moved to get up.

He put a hand on her arm to stop her, however. “No, they’ll just kill me. It’s fine, I just have to get a signal to my people and they’ll come get me.”

“And let them get close to my camp? Not happening.”

“Why would a Kryptonian help a Daxamite anyway?”

Kara heaved a sigh and plopped herself back down in the dirt next to him. She picked up a handful of dirt and watched as it fell through her fingers before she replied. “I miss home. And correct me if I am wrong, but I think you do too,” she said. 

He looked down and shrugged a shoulder in response. 

Kara continued, “I don’t think we are that different from each other. I’m tired of fighting, and I just want to do some good for once.” She shrugged, unsure of what else to say. She really was just so tired of fighting, but she also didn’t feel the need to kill someone who was already dying, and was not so different from herself.

Mon-El gave her a crooked smile. “Do you get an extra badge or something for that in the Kryptonian infantry?”  
Kara rolled her eyes. “No, I just think its the right thing to do.” She stood and continued, “Now, excuse me while I go get some supplies to maybe save your life.”

“If you still feel like it, you mean?” He called after her.

Pivoting around to face him, she said, “Exactly.” Waving she continued to make her way back to the camp.

~~~

Kara sneaked around the back of the camp, hoping to avoid notice as she went towards the healer’s tent. She peaked inside and saw there was only one healer there at the moment, and Kara debated if she should just take the supplies herself and go or not. Considering the level of injuries Mon-El had, however, Kara figured it was best to ask the healer for her advice. After all, if she was risking getting sent to Fort Rozz, she might as well make sure she actually helped the Daxamite.

“Excuse me?” Kara asked, coming into the tent and getting the healer’s attention.

The healer had been tending to a patient but turned and greeted Kara. “How can I help you, Captain?” she asked Kara.

“I have an injured man in the field, who cannot be moved just yet-” Kara started.

“I’ll grab my things, just give me a few moments,” the healer said, returning to the patient before her.

“Actually,” Kara said, moving around the patient’s bed to face the healer again. “I just need some supplies, whatever you recommend for a deep thigh wound, and possibly some internal bleeding.” She might not be a healer herself, but she could see the way Mon-El had grasped his stomach meant he had injuries there too. “You have several to tend to here, and I would like them to take priority, rather than a soldier in the field that might not make it anyway,” Kara explained, trying to use an authoritative voice.

The healer still seemed doubtful, but reluctantly agreed, “Alright, just a moment.” She finished helping the patient in front of her and then moved around the tent, gathering various supplies from different shelves. She gave Kara several instructions as she was filling up the bag with the things she would need to help Mon-El. Handing the bag to Kara she said, “If there is any trouble, simply send a signal and I will come as soon as I can.”

Nodding Kara slung the bag over her shoulder and thanked the healer. “I truly appreciate the help,” she said. The healer bowed her head in respect as Kara left the tent.

Before leaving the camp, she ducked into her own private tent. There she gathered up a few bits of food that she kept in her quarters for when she got hungry at night. Mon-El could probably use some food, as the healing process could take a lot out of someone. Once her bag was all packed, she headed back out.

~~~

Mon-El pressed his head against the cool rock behind him, focusing on his breathing. It hurt. Everything hurt. His limbs were growing stiff from not moving, and the blood that covered his chest and leg was drying and making his clothes stiff. Every time he tried to breathe, it felt as if someone was sticking needles into his chest.

After what felt like hours, the Kryptonian reappeared, surprising Mon-El because he certainly did not think she was going to come alone. But she had, and she had brought some medical things as she had promised. “So you’re a healer too?” Mon-El asked in Kryptonese, dubious when she started pulling things from her bag and inspecting his wounded leg. He flinched when she peeled back the fabric that had molded to his skin, attempting to get a better view of the gash.

“No, I just got some advice is all,” she said. “How did you get this? Could there be any fragments in it for any reason?”

 

He shrugged, just slightly so the movement did not hurt quite as much. “The ground in front of me exploded, and I think I hit a wall or something. The next thing I knew I was in this damned ravine, and I couldn’t hear any more fighting, but my clothes were soaked in blood and everything hurt.” He had been trying to remember some more of the battle, but really all he could remember was seeing death and destruction everywhere. One moment after stepping onto the field, he realized why his family had not let him lead men into battle before. A lot of him wished he had listened to his parents, because maybe then he would not be sitting in a ravine with the fate of his life in the hands of a Kryptonian.

“Okay, I’ll have to check it for shards. This will probably hurt, sorry,” Kara said.

Mon-El didn’t look but could feel her moving the stiff fabric of his pants, and doing something with his leg. The pain was bad, but he was starting to get used to it. After a little while his leg went numb, and he glanced down to see what Kara had done. She’d put some kind of patch over the cut. “What’d you do exactly?” he finally asked.

She did not look up at him as she started to rifle through the bag again, saying, “It’s a healing patch. It makes the area go numb, and then repairs the damaged tissue.” She pulled something else out of the bag and said, “Okay, now lift up your shirt.”

He smirked. “Well now, I thought Kryptonians were more prudish than that. We only just met, afterall.”

Kara rolled her eyes dramatically and heaved a sigh. “I know you have some injury in your abdomen and I need to check it,” she clarified. “Now please, lift up your shirt.”

“You just want to see me shirtless,” Mon-El teased, but obliged by shifting and moving his shirt up.

“Daxamite,” Kara said bitterly, but the blush on her face gave her away. She was not actually mad, Mon-El could tell. But he also figured it was best to not tease her anymore until she was done healing him.

He felt her cool fingers press against his skin as she palpated his stomach, assumingly for signs of internal bleeding. When she leaned back on her heels, Mon-El asked, “Well, what’s the verdict?” But the look on Kara’s face told him all he really needed to know. “Got it,” he said and pulled his shirt down.

Kara put a comforting hand on his arm and said, “I’m not an actual healer. And I don’t have the experience or knowledge to diagnose your symptoms. I have a suspicion, but if I treat you for it and I’m wrong, you’ll die.”

“It’s fine, I probably don’t deserve to live anyway,” he said, letting his head rest against the rock again and closing his eyes. He heard her ruffling through her bag again and opened his eyes when she cleared her throat. Her hand was extended towards him, offering some strange Kryptonian fruit. “What?” he asked.

“Eat something, your leg should be fine in a few more minutes, and then I’ll help you get back to your people.”

He laughed. “Why would you do that? You’ll likely get caught, and besides I don’t know how to get back to the camp anyway.”

She let out another exasperated sigh. “I did not take the time to heal your leg, only for you to die here. So eat something, and then we can go,” she said, pushing the fruit into his hand. “I know where your camp is, it’s not really a secret.”

Mon-El was honestly taken aback by the generosity of this person before him. Kryptonian or not, she clearly had a kind heart. It made him feel humbled to think about how many people she had likely lost to this war - everyone had lost someone - and yet she was still willing to help a person on the other side of it. “Thank you, Kara,” he said, giving her a kind smile. “Now, how do I eat this exactly?”

She laughed and pulled out another one from the bag. Holding it in her hand she bit into it, and peeled back the rigid bumpy outside layer, revealing a softer inside. She peeled off every bit of the outside layer before taking a bite of the inside. “Like that,” Kara said around the bit of fruit in her mouth.

Mon-El pressed his lips together to try and prevent the grin from spreading across his face. “I see, and why do you eat these things exactly?” He’d never eaten food with his hands, if he was being honest, though he knew it was often done by the lower families.  
“Just try it,” Kara insisted, taking another bite of hers.

Shrugging, Mon-El bit and peeled back the exterior of the strange fruit this Kryptonian had given him. When he bit into the softer part, however, he was surprised as a burst of flavor filled his mouth. It was actually pretty good, he realized. 

When they had finished their fruit, Kara brushed her hands down her suit. Her outfit was black with a Kryptonian symbol just over her heart, like every other Kryptonian military outfit that he had ever seen. When she stood, however, he noticed she was standing gingerly on her one leg. “Did you hurt yourself?” Mon-El asked, nodding to her leg.

Kara shrugged. “It’s nothing. It’s just sore, is all.” She put out a hand for him to take and said, “Now, let’s get going. You need to see a healer, and I need to get back to my camp.”

He put his hand in hers and she helped him to his feet. Mon-El’s side hurt, and he wrapped an arm around his torso in a vain attempt to quell the pain. “Just going to point out one more time that you should really just leave me here,” he said before they started hobbling onwards.

“Everyone deserves to live,” she told him as they struggled to find an even pace that he could manage.

“Even Daxamites?”

She stopped then, making him almost tip over by taking a step without her. She looked at him straight on, her blue eyes boring into his when she said, “Yes, everyone. I might not agree with your lifestyle, but everyone has some good in them, somewhere.”

He smiled at her, amazed once more at how generous she could be, even though she was a Kryptonian war captain. “If you say so,” was his response as they started moving forward once more.

Getting out of the ravine was a challenge, as he had a hard time climbing up the rocks. But they managed in time, and things started to look a little more familiar to him. But, coming out of the ravine found them above a large valley. From their vantage point, Mon-El could clearly see the scorched ground below and the disturbed rock formations, clearly marking the area where the battle had taken place. It felt like a lifetime ago, almost.

The last time he had stood near this spot he was astonished by the violence taking place, and was frozen where he stood. A blast had exploded nearby, he fell back and, well, now here he was again. “How do you deal with it all?” Mon-El asked as they walked away from the valley, headed towards the trail that led to the Daxamite camp.

“Deal with what?” Kara asked, adjusting her hand’s position around his waist. He tried not to think so much about her hand on his waist though.

“The war, and all the death that accompanies it.”

She seemed a little taken aback at that. She pursed her lips in contemplation for a minute before saying, “I don’t really know. I don’t, I guess. I don’t think anyone really does. We just lock all our feelings away until one day we can’t hold them back anymore. And we keep hoping that things will get better in the meantime - or at least that is what I do.”

Mon-El shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t think I could handle war,” he confessed.

Kara scoffed. “Well, you’ll have to if you want to be a soldier. Unless Daxam does it differently, you usually have to fight in the war to be a soldier.”

He felt a slight blush creep across his face. “Yeah, of course.” He had to be more careful not to let his true identity out. Afterall, helping a random fallen soldier was one thing, but helping the crown prince was an entirely different matter. She would probably be obligated to take him to her own encampment if she found out he was the prince.

They had little conversation the rest of the way to his camp. Mon-El was too scared of letting anything slip, and Kara seemed a little on edge herself - probably because she was carrying a wounded Daxamite into enemy territory. The silence in the canyon seemed to make the walk longer, however. And eventually Mon-El asked, “So what’s the symbol on your chest mean?”

Kara glanced at it and said, “My family crest. It means hope.”

Mon-El nodded, trying to think of something more to say so the deafening silence would not resume.

“You speak Kryptonian fairly well,” she observed. “How did you learn our language? I was not aware Daxamites were taught Kryptonian.”

He had to chose his words carefully. He did not want to lie to her, if he could help it. But he also knew he could not tell her that he had learned it because he was the prince. All the royals of Daxam were expected to learn multiple languages. It was one of the many tasks Mon-El had never quite enjoyed as a child. There had just been so many languages, and a lot of them had confused him at first - eventually he mastered all 14 languages though. “Most don’t know Kryptonian. But I had a governess that knew it, and taught it to me,” he replied. It was not technically a lie, really. It just did not include the whole story.

“A slave?” There was no mistaking the disapproval and disgust in her voice.

He shut his eyes for a brief second to calm himself, but almost lost his balance doing so. He tried to take a few calming breaths instead. Finally, he told her, “No. She was commissioned. But yes, there are slaves on Daxam. And I understand that you disapprove of that. To be honest, I’m not crazy about it either. But, it is what it is.” He shrugged, trying to let the subject drop and fall away. Kara would not let it go, however.

“It doesn’t have to be that way. The people could rebel against it, the monarchy could change it. We all have choices and those choices are what define us,” she informed him matter of factly. Kara was clearly one of the many infamous Kryptonian elitists.  
“It’s not always that simple, Kara.”

“But it is,” she said, her voice rising and the hand that wasn’t helping Mon-El remain upright began waving in the air. “People want to believe they have no power, but they do. It is just a matter of having the courage to do something with what you have been given.” She continued to talk about people abusing power, and how power should really be distributed.

He could not deny that what she said had value. Mon-El especially had power, but he had no idea how to use it. His parents would likely lock him in a cell for running off like he did. And even if they let him out, he had no real way of defying them. He had no legislative power. He had no real political power, he was simply a face and title. Maybe he would be able to change that some time, though.

“You’re right,” Mon-El said.

Kara abruptly stopped talking at his words, she simply stared at him. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head.

“Everyone has some power, true, but some people do not know how to use it either.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Or they’re too scared to use it, so they pass it on to others.”

Mon-El wondered if she suspected he was some type of political figure on Daxam, or if she was simply confused and conflicted that a Daxamite actually thought about being fair. Whichever she was thinking, he could tell she was starting to hope for something. What could the two of them accomplish though, in reality? Little, Mon-El figured. Or perhaps, just perhaps, they could accomplish a lot… It would require a lot of faith, and even more danger. Still, it just might be possible. But they’d likely never see each other after today, so what did it matter?

“What would you say one should do, then?” he asked her.

She contemplated for a moment. “Well, if they had enough power, set up peace negotiations. If not, perhaps convince as many people as possible that peace was possible.”

“To what end?”

“Well, if more and more started to hope for peace, then maybe it would get back to the leaders of the land and they would see the logic of creating peace for their people.”

“You seem to be basing a lot of this on hope,” he observed.

Kara shrugged. “And why not? Hope is often the most powerful tool a person can possess.”

“What if all hope is lost?”

“Then so are we,” she said matter of factly. Kara was so sure of things, it seemed. Mon-El had questioned things when he was younger, but by the time he was 13 he found it useless to question his parents or the world around him. It was easier to accept things as they were, than to try and understand them. Besides, he had taken one too many scoldings from his father to question his parents by the time he was 13.

He was about to say something, but Kara stopped and pointed ahead of them. She asked, “Does that look like your encampment?”

Mon-El squinted against the now setting sun. He could just barely make out the shapes of a few ships and tents. “Yeah, I think so.” He hadn’t actually seen the camp before, having snuck onto a ship from Daxam only to land in the middle of a battlefield. He momentarily remembered convincing his guard to go with him, but pushed it away. This was not the time to think about the death of his friend.

“Come on, let’s get you back so you can be healed,” Kara said, moving them forward again.

“Wait, you can’t get caught,” Mon-El said urgently. He knew that no mercy would be shown to a Kryptonian bringing in the injured Prince. Good intentions or not, the soldiers would not hesitate to shoot Kara on the spot, and he could not have her death on his conscious too. Plus, the idea of her dying for him hurt more than he thought it would.

“You can’t very well walk on your own, either,” Kara pointed out.

He looked around for something he could lean on and walk with. But there was nothing but rocks and dust. “Okay, so get me a little bit closer, but then you have to go. The scouts will find me, if I don’t make it all the way back.”

“Yeah, and by then you could have died.”

“Kara, please,” he pleaded with her. 

She must have seen the desperation in his eyes for she heaved a frustrated sigh. “Fine, but I’m taking you as close as I can first,” she said.  
They moved forward together, and Mon-El struggled to start walking on his own. His strength was waning, but he knew he needed to pull through. If he could just get to the camp, he would be alright. He had to be. Because if he did not make it, his family would likely obliterate all of Krypton in retaliation. The thought of his family killing so many innocent people for his own stupid mistake made him nauseous. He was pulled out of his revere when they were about a dozen yards away from the camp. 

“Do you think you can make it from here?” Kara asked with uncertainty. She was clearly still very skeptical of letting him finish the trek on his own. He was again stunned by how much a Kryptonian could care for a Daxamite she had never met. Though she had a clear sense of self-righteousness, he could not help but be amazed by her selflessness.

“I will make it,” he assured her. He had to.

“Alright, well, I should get back. I wish you the best, though.” She shifted awkwardly and kept her eyes down.

“Thank you for all your help, Kara,” Mon-El said. The words seemed inadequate for what he wanted to convey, but he could not come up with any other Kryptonian words to match his gratitude towards her.

“My pleasure, Mon-El. I suppose I will see you on the battlefield,” she said with a sad smile.

He forced a smile. “See you there,” he said.


	2. The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Kara was worn out by the time she reached her camp. The sun was just about to disappear behind the horizon as she walked through the long line of tents. When she finally reached her own tent, she collapsed onto her cot. It had been a very long day, and though she had reports to file, she figured a little rest first would be alright. Sitting up a little, she rubbed her sore calf. It hurt more now than it had before she came across Mon-El. Half carrying a grown man had not helped her muscle’s healing process. But even still, she felt a strange sense of pride at helping him. It was probably in vain, but she still held some hope that maybe by helping the Daxamite soldier she could start something. What exactly that something was, she couldn’t say, but she hoped it would one day lead to peace - for both Krypton and Daxam.

“Ma’am?” a voice said from outside her tent.

Kara sat up on her cot before saying, “Yes, come in.”

Sergeant Kan stepped into her tent. He bowed his head in respect and said, “Captain Zor-El, the Major General wishes to see you as soon as possible.”

“Do you know why, Sergeant?” Kara asked, slightly worried she might have been caught helping a Daxamite soldier.

“No, ma’am,” was the short reply.

“Alright, I’ll be there promptly. Thank you, Sergeant,” Kara said, dismissing him.

She sat on her cot, rubbing her sore leg for another minute before getting up. She knew that if she kept the major waiting, things would likely turn out poorly. And if she was to be in trouble for helping someone, then she might as well face her punishment sooner rather than later. Regardless of what her punishment might be, she was still glad she had helped that Daxamite. So, holding her head up, she headed out of her tent.

Walking along the line of tents, she started to feel like all eyes were watching her. It was a ridiculous thought, of course, because everyone was focused on their own tasks. But still, she could not help but feel she was being watched as she made her way to the Major’s tent.

The Major General had a larger tent than anyone else, and it was placed directly in the middle of the entire encampment. The size of the tent was both a status symbol, as well as for practical use, because the major held almost all important meetings in his tent. Such meetings often had at least 10 or 12 Kryptonian generals, captains and majors in attendance, so such a large space was necessary.

Stepping into the large tent, she noticed that there were already several other officials already inside. Kara gave her respects to the other men and women in the tent before taking a seat in the circle that surrounded a large holographic map of Krypton. The map was often used for strategic planning, but today it did not seem to be the topic of debate.

“Captain Kara Zor-El,” Major General Hun began. “We have received word from the capital that peace negotiations with the Daxamites may occur soon, and they need representatives from all fronts. As you have shown such skill and loyalty, I am promoting you to Major and nominating you for this task.”

Kara was slightly stunned at the idea. This could be the perfect opportunity for her to make a real difference in this war, and maybe bring about its end. But she also had a good notion of what the position entailed, and knew it would not be as simple as she would like. Kara had seen the amount of political setbacks her mother and father had had to handle throughout their efforts to save Krypton when she was younger. Being a representative meant dealing with a lot of politics and restrictions, but it still could be the chance of a lifetime - were she to actually be appointed. 

“I would be honored to fulfill such a role, Sir,” Kara said with a slight bow of her head.

Hun nodded briefly. “I believe you would do an excellent job of it, as you seem to have a rational mind, but also a hopeful one - something needed in peace debates,” he said. Then turning to the others in the tent he asked, “We shall take a vote on it. All those in favor of sending Major Zor-El to the capital, raise your hand.”

To Kara’s surprise all but one hand went up. Major Ute was the one person to keep her hand down, and Kara could easily figure out why. Hana Ute had been trying to get back to the capital ever since they had been stationed out here in the dusty canyons. Kara could not rightly blame her, because the woman had a family back at the capital. But Ute was also one of the best Majors they had, and she was sorely needed with her soldiers on the battlefront. Not to mention that Ute seemed to have little political ability - she was much better on the battlefront.

“By popular vote, then, we shall be sending you to the capital tomorrow evening,” Hun informed Kara. “Pack your things tonight, and be at the landing just before sundown tomorrow. Your troops will be redistributed until another Captain can be appointed to them.”  
“Sir, if I may make a suggestion?” Kara asked.

Hun nodded and motioned for her to continue.

“Sir, I would like to recommend Lieutenant Ger-Del to replace me as Captain of the 6th Kryptonian Infantry.”

With a nod he said, “Your recommendation is noted and will be taken into consideration.”

“Thank you, sir.”

He waved his hand in dismissal, “Now if there are no further questions, you may go, Captain Zor-El.”

Kara left the tent a little stunned, a little pleased, and a lot scared. There were so many possibilities ahead of her, but she also knew there were many challenges ahead. But at least she knew she would be around her parents again, and could always look to them for guidance if she needed to. She wondered as well what little Clark might look like now. She had not seen him in close to a year, and boys of his age always changed so quickly. The thought of seeing her family again made her giddy.

When she reached her tent, however, she started thinking of those she would miss from the frontlines. She knew full well that there were many faces she might never see again, as more died every day on the battlefields - it was simply a fact of life out here.

Kara heard someone clear their throat outside her tent. “Come in,” she said.

It was Lieutenant Ger-Del, though Kara knew her mostly as Rin. “Captain,” she said with a slight bow of her head before approaching Kara.

Motioning for her to sit on the cot, Kara asked, “I would assume you have heard about the recent changes?”

Rin nodded. “There have been rumors that you are leaving camp, and being sent back to the capital.”

“Those rumors would be correct,” Kara said, still astounded how fast news traveled in the camps. “I figure my family had something to do with it. But yes, I will be sent back to help broker peace. Not that I truly expect this treaty to work, but such are my orders.”

“I’m sure you will do great in your new position. I’ll miss you a lot, however,” Rin confessed.

Kara wrapped her arms around Rin and hugged her tightly. “I’m going to miss you more than I can say. You’ve been such a wonderful friend to me,” she told her.

“You’ll have to keep in touch, okay?” Rin asked, hugging Kara tightly back.

“Of course!”

They parted then and smiled at one another. Kara was certainly going to miss seeing Rin, as they had grown to be quite good friends. In reality, Rin was the only true friend Kara had still. Sure, there were some people in the capital that she knew but she had not kept in touch with anyone but her family when she had left for the battlefield. Returning to the capital would be both welcoming to see her family, but lonely to be without her one true friend. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through this transition without you around, Rin,” Kara confessed.

Rin laughed a little. “You’ll do it the same way you have done everything else - with courage and patience. You will be a wonderful peacemaker. I only wish I could return to civilization with you!”

“I wish you could too! I did ask for Hun to consider making you my replacement here. I figured you wouldn’t mind,” Kara said with a grin. She knew Rin’s values were different from her own. Rin’s heart was more in the military than Kara could ever hope to be. Though Kara cared about her planet and all the people in it, she had never truly believed in the mass killing of other races and planets. She still attributed her rise through the ranks to her family, and her ability to handle political relations whenever necessary; rather than her skill on the battlefield.

“Thank you so much, Kara, I truly appreciate that,” Rin said, her eyes warm and filled with gratitude.

Kara waved a hand dismissively. “You deserve the position more than I do. I just hope Hun knows what’s best for everyone and actually takes my recommendation.”

Rin laughed then. “Suppose we shall all find out soon enough.”

There was a brief pause in conversation. Then Kara cleared her throat and said, “Well, I should really pack. You’re welcome to stay, but I should get to it.”

Nodding, Rin stood and gave her friend one more hug. “I should go too, I have a few things to tend to myself. But I’ll miss you and I wish you all the best, my friend. May Rao be with you on your journey.”

“And with you,” Kara said with a slight bow of her head. Then her friend was gone, and she tried very hard not to think about when or if they would see each other again. Instead, she turned to her things and started her task of packing up.

~~~

It was dark by the time the healers had left Mon-El to himself in a small tent beside the healing ward. Having his own tent seemed somehow ridiculous to him now, after seeing the cramped quarters all the other soldiers were living in. He felt very spoiled indeed when he was given a nice meal that likely was not being given to the other injured men. All of these were thoughts he had not expected to have when coming to this planet. Somehow that Kryptonian had effected Mon-El’s thoughts. He was starting to question things he had never given a second thought to before, and it was going to drive him mad if he didn’t get a handle on it.

He shook his head to try and clear his thoughts. But the face of that Kryptonian kept popping into his head, her lips set in a way that clearly said she was disappointed in him. What was he supposed to do though? He had been found not far from where Kara had left him by a scout, taken straight to the healing ward, and everything just happened so fast. Could she really blame him for accepting the extra care that he was receiving? He had been seriously injured, and his life was certainly crucial to keeping Krypton in existence. Because now he even had confirmation that his parents would destroy this planet if he did not return in one piece by the end of tomorrow. 

“I had to see what was actually happening,” he had argued with his parents.

“You can easily find that out through other, safer means, Mon-El,” his father had said in his most disapproving voice. “There is no reason to go to such a wretched place, and in the middle of a war!”

“If you are not back in your quarters here at the palace by sunset tomorrow, I will personally see to the entire destruction of that planet,” the queen had warned.

“Why? The Kryptonians didn’t bring me here!”

“They are the reason you are there in a healing ward, however!” she had bellowed at him.

Yes, Kara would likely be disappointed in him as well for not putting up more of an argument with his parents. He had agreed too easily to return to Daxam, where he would once again be nothing more than a title with no political power. He was just a disappointment to everyone, it seemed. And rightfully so, he was no hero and likely never would be. 

Still, something inside of him wished he could be. A small voice told him to at least try, and maybe one day he could be a hero. Maybe one day he could make someone proud. But today was not that day. He had not even told his parents or the Daxamite soldiers about Kara. There was a nagging suspicion that not too many would be pleased at the idea of a Kryptonian Captain helping the Prince of Daxam. Especially making attempts to heal him - although the healers did seem rather pleased that Mon-El had a healing patch on his leg. His poor excuse for having it was that he had come across a dying Daxamite soldier that attempted to help him. No one questioned his story, thankfully.

He was scheduled to board a ship back to Daxam tomorrow morning. Upon his arrival home, he was sure to receive a good talk from his parents before being shut in his quarters for the better part of a week. Perhaps in a week or so he could start making a difference somewhere, somehow. Now that Kara had gotten in his head, it seemed next to impossible to go back to ignoring everything. But for now, he would have to try.

An attractive healer entered the tent, bringing in a large glass of Zacharian Ale. “Thank you,” Mon-El said as he took the glass from her. Everything was better with ale, so he took a long drink from the glass before setting it down with his food.

“Is there anything else you need, my prince?” the woman asked.

Mon-El waved his hand in dismissal, “No, I’ll be fine, thanks.”

She bowed and left him in the tent alone to think about what in the world he was going to do when he saw his parents.

~~~

“Welcome back,” Gareth said when Mon-El stepped out of the ship and back onto Daxam. Gareth was an old friend, but also one of Mon-El’s trusted guards. Most likely he had been punished in some manner for Mon-El’s escape, but he figured it could not have been too bad or Gareth wouldn’t be so friendly. Whenever Mon-El had gotten him in trouble - which was often - he usually would be resentful for at least a little while. Of course, because Mon-El was part of the royal family, Gareth couldn’t really do much more than give curt answers to him when he was annoyed.

“Thanks,” Mon-El grumbled. “How bad is it?”

Gareth’s face scrunched up. “It’s bad.”

Mon-El’s head rolled back as he let out a moan. “Any advice?”

“Don’t go sneaking off to other planets when there’s a war going on.”

“Thanks, real helpful.”

Gareth shrugged. “I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Shaking his head, Mon-El started walking towards the throne room. “Well, might as well get this over with, I guess.”

“Can I ask how it is over there?” Gareth said hesitantly. Mon-El couldn’t blame his curiosity, after all that was what had prompted him to go. Well, partially anyway.

“The question is do you really want to know?” Mon-El asked, looking pointedly at Gareth.

“Is it really that bad?”

“It’s horrifying.” The images of people dying - Daxamite and Kryptonian alike - had haunted Mon-El’s dreams last night. There was no real way to describe how awful it was to see people killing each other - or to see your best friend get blown up beside you.

“I’m sorry,” Gareth said, putting a comforting hand on Mon-El’s shoulder. “I suppose that’s why no one is talking about it.”

“I suppose so,” he said. They had come to the throne room doors now, and Mon-El took a deep breath. “Wish me luck?”

Gareth said, “Good luck. I’ll have some ale waiting for you in your chambers.” He smiled before adding, “That’s assuming you make it through this.”

“Thanks for the confidence,” Mon-El mumbled as Gareth pushed the doors open for him, and he stepped inside to meet his parents’ wrath.

~~~

The sun had just set behind the horizon when Kara’s pod pulled into the landing at the Justice Guild. It had been a long day of going over procedures with Hun, and then a tiring journey to the capital. By the time she stepped out of her pod, she was ready to lay down for the night. Unfortunately, there were a number of people to see before she could sleep.

“Welcome back, Major Zor-El,” came a familiar voice from behind Kara.

Turning around, a smile spread across Kara’s face as she embraced her mother. “I’ve missed you so much,” she told her.

“We have all missed you,” Alura told her, placing a kiss on her daughter’s forehead. “But there is much to be done, now that you are to be in charge of negotiations. I think you should read these before you meet the Daxamite representative,” she said as she put a holocrystal in Kara’s hand.

“When do I meet the representative?” she said, clicking the holocrystal. The image of a cube appeared, and there was a different article on each side. Kara looked briefly over the articles as she walked inside the Justice Guild with her mother.

“We have yet to receive word from Daxam on when or even who will be coming, but I should think within a day or two.”

Kara nodded, and shut the holocrystal off - she would read through them later tonight. “Let’s hope it is someone who is interested in peace as much as we are.”

“Considering the battles are not taking place on Daxam, I highly doubt that. Besides, they are Daxamites and by definition brutes and bullies,” Alura said with a hint of malice.

Kara opened her mouth to say something but before she could, Zor-El appeared. “My beautiful girls; how wonderful it is to have you back with us, Kara,” he told her, embracing her in a tight hug.

“I’ve missed you, father,” she said, wrapping her arms around him. It felt so amazing to be home again, and to finally see her family once more. “Are Kal and Astra around?” Kara asked.

“You’ll see them a little later tonight, at dinner. For now, let’s get you settled and prepared for tomorrow.” Zor-El put an arm around Kara and took the hand of Alura so they could all walk together down the hall.

The building was much the same as Kara remembered, but there were subtle differences that reminded her of how long she had been gone. Though Kara had grown up in the Science Guild, where her father worked, she had spent a lot of her time following her mother around the Justice Guild (often times when she was not supposed to). Because Kara was here for peace delegations, she was to stay in the Justice Guild for now. She suspected it would be strange to be so close to her home and parents, and yet not be in the same quarters as them.

When they had turned several corners, they finally reached a door with the House of El glif in the middle. “Your living quarters,” Alura informed Kara, presenting her with the card to get in. “We will leave you to settle in, and I will see you in an hour at the Global Office,” she said, giving her daughter another kiss and hug before walking away with Zor-El.

“Well, here we go,” Kara said to herself. She swiped the card in front of the glif and with a gentle swoosh, the door slid open. It was a spacious room, with a few necessary items that she would need while she was here. By the look of things, they did not expect her to be here that long. Only a few of her items had been brought over from her parents’ quarters. Still, she had been living out of a single case and a half for nearly a year now; she figured she could manage just fine with what she had been provided with.

After a warm shower, some reading and donning a new set of clothes, Kara set out towards the Global Office. It was a space used only for meetings dealing with the whole planet, and usually beyond. The space was not very large, as the idea was that only a few elected representatives from around the planet would be in attendance. Kara was there to represent the military (and in her mind, hope).

By the time she was walking into the circular room with its set of standing blocks, Kara’s heart was pounding. She wanted to make a difference, but because she was in such a strange position she was unsure about how effective she could be right away. Her mother was respected among the Justice Guild, and her father was a well known scientist, so naturally people expected a lot from Kara as well. However, a lot of people still doubted her abilities and believed she had risen through the ranks so quickly because of her family. In truth, Kara sometimes wondered the same thing, but in her heart she knew she had earned every promotion she had been granted. She was a hard worker, and as dedicated to her people as her parents were.

Taking her place in the room, Kara looked about to see who else had been called in. Her mother and father were both there, being the leading scientist and judicator of their guilds. There was at least one or more members of each guild in the room, surprisingly. Thus the room was packed more than normal, with nearly 15 people in attendance. The noise of chattering voices settled once Alura moved to stand in the middle of the room.

“You all are likely aware that the war is taking over every aspect of life on Krypton. If we do not act soon, we may face the annihilation of our way of life - whether the Daxamites win or not. Thus, we must find a way to force the Daxamites off our planet, and back to their own,” Alura said, making eye contact with everyone in the room at least once. “There is a Daxamite envoy coming to negotiate peace with us soon, however we all must prepare for the worst. Should this plan of peace not work, what are our options?”

“We know where their camps are, why not just strike directly at their camps?” said one voice.

“Because we would be breaking our own codes,” Kara said, astounded at the idea. It was one thing to want the Daxamites to leave Krypton, but to break a code of honor and attack resting forces? That was simply wrong. 

To Kara’s relief, Alura agreed. “Major Kara Zor-El is right, we must not let ourselves be persuaded to abandon our honor in the process of this war.”

There were a few other suggestions made, each one caused some kind of stir. It seemed no one could think of an honorable way to bring an end to this war. Finally, Kara decided to speak up once again. Afterall, she had just as much right to speak as anyone else in the room. “Why don’t we give the envoy a chance before assuming the worst?”

She heard a bitter bark of laughter. Then someone said, “Why would any Daxamite truly want peace? The war is not harming them at all, it is only our planet and our people that are suffering from the effects of this war.”

“Daxamites might not have the war in front of them, but I am certain everyone on Daxam is affected by the war as well. They are losing soldiers daily as well, and I am sure every one of those soldiers has a family of some kind,” Kara tried to remind everyone. It was a little strange to be defending the Daxamites to her own people, but she had no idea what else to do. She had to get them to have some hope that this plan to make peace would work. If they lost hope, then the plan was sure to fail.

The room grew silent as everyone stared at Kara. Then someone laughed, and everyone else joined. “Daxamite families,” someone said. “That has to be the funniest thing I’ve heard all day.”

Kara could feel her blood starting to boil. But before she could say another word, her mother was taking over the conversation and redirecting it. One of the many reasons Alura was a brilliant judicator - she could neutralize and avoid topics easier than anyone else Kara had ever seen.

In the end, it was decided that they would hear out the envoy from Daxam, but they would plan for the worst. That plan would be discussed in a different meeting, however. For now, they decided on the guards that would be with the envoy at all times - making sure the envoy would not be able to spy on them. Kara supported the grand majority of this, because just like everyone else, she had lost a lot to the Daxamites and was not ready to trust them completely. However, she hoped everyone would at least give the envoy time to prove themselves useful and ready for peace. 

~~~

To his great relief, Mon-El had only been ordered to remain in the castle for the next week. Though he knew it would be frustrating to be stuck within these walls for so long, he knew it was far better than he had expected. The Queen and King had determined that the loss of Bo-Den was sufficient punishment, and of course he had to inform his friend’s family. That was the hardest part. Bo’s mother had been heartbroken, and it hurt to see the tears rolling silently down her face. Mon-El could tell she wanted to be angry with him, but because he was the crown prince, there was nothing she could really say to him. Her silent look had told him everything, anyway. It was a look that would haunt him for some time to come.

He was sprawled out on his bed, and though the sun had been up for a good while, he refused to get out of bed. It had been a long day yesterday; coming back from Krypton and talking to Bo-Den’s family. He felt he deserved to spend today in bed.   
Besides, the woman curled up next to him was still asleep, and he didn’t want to disrupt her sleep by getting up. He stared at the woman, trying hard to remember what her name had been. Surely Gareth had told him when he had brought the girl in last night. She was certainly attractive, Mon-El thought. Still, that Kryptonian woman was stuck in his mind. What in the world had she managed to do to him?

His door whooshed open, pulling him from his revere, as he knew he would have to get out of bed now. “What is it?” he asked without looking up, because he knew full well that it was Gareth.

“There is to be a conference in an hour, and you are summoned to attend,” Gareth said as he shuffled through Mon-El’s things - probably searching for clothes.

The woman stirred and looked up at Mon-El with a blushing smile. He smiled back before looking to Gareth. “Do I really have to be there? I’m much more comfortable here,” he said.

Gareth just looked at him and tossed some clothes on the bed. “Get dressed, I’ll be outside. Miss, please come with me,” he said, holding out a hand for the woman. Her blush seemed to deepen a little as she slipped out of the bed and back into a thin dress. Then she and Gareth left the room together.

Mon-El flopped onto his back with a groan. He stared at his ceiling for a few moments before he figured he best get ready. Afterall, Gareth certainly had no qualms coming in and dressing Mon-El himself - he had done it once or twice when Mon-El had been too drunk and stubborn to dress himself.

Once dressed, he made his way down the halls to the throne room, Gareth walking not far behind him. When they had reached the doors, Mon-El was announced before he stepped inside, the doors closing behind him and keeping Gareth outside. He was slightly surprised to see more than one advisor in the room. Generally, his parents liked to completely ignore the advisors - which, he supposed, they had the right to as King and Queen. 

“Mon-El, thank you for joining us,” his mother said in a pleasant tone, though anyone who knew her would know she was not at all pleased. Her face was pleasant enough, but its sharper features made him nervous. Queen Rhea was a fierce but delicate person. She was the kind of queen that everyone should be afraid of, Mon-El always thought. And truthfully, everyone was terrified of his parents. Which, they probably had good reason because his parents had certainly enslaved, beaten, or murdered enough people to warrant such fear.  
As nervous as Rhea made him, Lar-Gand had always terrified him more. The man had often lost his temper with the servants, and after witnessing such brutality, Mon-El could not help but be afraid of his father. Though he was a grown man now, he still was very nervous to stand in front of his parents, especially in such formal circumstances.

“Now then, as I was saying,” Lar-Gand resumed. “We have received word from the Kryptonians that they mean to broker peace with us. There seems little truth to such claims - considering this war was started by their unprovoked attack on us. But even still, I am thinking of sending someone to Krypton. Perhaps we can gain intel on their movements and can weaken them, if we place a spy in the very heart of their world.”

Before he had truly thought it out, Mon-El said, “Shouldn’t we try to be peaceful, if we can?” The moment the words had left his mouth, he knew he had made a mistake.

Lar-Gand and Rhea’s cold eyes turned to him, and his eyes darted to the floor. “We need to find someone who can be our envoy in this endeavor,” Rhea said. “Are there any suggestions?” Mon-El knew very well it was only a ploy, for his parents surely had picked someone already.

“I believe we should send Tol, he has shown great loyalty in his fight against the Kryptonians,” one of the advisors said.

“No, he is needed on the battlefield,” Rhea said, waving her hand in dismissal.

A handful of other suggestions were made, and each one was shot down by Mon-El’s parents. Finally, Rhea said, “I believe the best choice would be my son.”

Mon-El could tell there was more to come, and tried hard to control the expression on his face.

“Yes, my love, I believe Mon-El would be an excellent choice,” Lar-Gand agreed. “He should be trusted by the Kryptonians because of his high status here, but we also know that he will stay loyal to our cause. And our son speaks both English and Kryptonian, making him an excellent choice, my love.”

Mon-El was unsure if he should be grateful for the chance to return to Krypton and perhaps make a difference, or if he should just be scared. Truthfully, he felt terrified about crossing battlefields and going into enemy territory, let alone making decisions for his whole planet. “It would be my honor,” he said with some reluctance. “I would request that Gareth come with me, however.”

“Naturally,” his mother said with a hint of annoyance.

After a long debate about the details, it was ultimately decided that Mon-El and Gareth would travel with two other guards in two days’ time. They were to send a beacon to Daxam at least once a day while they were on Krypton. It was argued that the regular report ins were for their own safety, but Mon-El knew very well that it was only so his parents could monitor his actions while he was their spokesperson. 

He was not to admit defeat to the Kryptonians, and he was to make them bend to the Daxamite terms instead. Mon-El knew very well - as his parents likely did - that the Kryptonians would not simply surrender and bow down, if it was that easy the war would have ended long ago. No, the Kryptonians were too self-righteous and stubborn to simply agree to the Daxamite terms. If they wanted the treaty to work, then they would need to compromise with the Kryptonians. But his parents seemed uninterested in a compromise, or for that matter a treaty. In reality, Mon-El was only being sent to Krypton in order to gain intel on how their forces were fairing - how broken their people were.

By the time he was back in his room, overseeing the packing of his things by the servants, he felt very resigned. It seemed rather hopeless that this treaty would work, and although he would do his best, he knew it would not be enough. He wondered if the Kryptonians had any alcohol in their city. It certainly would not shock him to discover their world to be as dry as the desert. He ordered several bottles of Zacharian Ale to be put in with his things, just to be safe.

~~~

“What in the name of Rao, is taking so long?” Kara finally asked, tossing her hands in the air and letting them fall dramatically at her sides. She had been waiting for nearly an hour now for a message from the council, stating that the Daxamite had entered their atmosphere. “I thought the envoy was supposed to be here by noon at the latest, and it’s certainly in the afternoon now,” she said with exasperation.

“You can always count on a Daxamite to break their word, and arrive late,” Astra said with a dismissive wave of her hand. Kara’s Aunt Astra was sitting at her desk, reading through a holocrystal. She was a general in the army, and as such always had some work to do. However, she enjoyed Kara’s company whenever possible. Though Kara thought the world of her parents, her aunt was her favorite person to talk to. Thus, Kara was pacing in her aunt’s apartment, waiting anxiously for word from the council.

“Do you think there’s any real hope of the treaty working?” Kara asked, taking a seat on Astra’s couch for a moment. “I mean, it’s a wonderful idea, but I’m suspicious that a compromise won’t be made.”

“I am certain you are right, Kara,” was the reply. Astra put down her reading for a moment to look over at her niece. “But your mother thought we should at least try. I don’t fault her for it, but I believe we need to be ready for this failing as well.”

Though she wanted to believe the best in people, Kara knew Astra was right. And it was not just the Daxamite that could destroy this treaty, but the council as well. Everyone had to agree to compromise for each other - for their worlds. But she wondered if anyone actually would agree to a compromise with their enemy. Doubtful, Kara thought. But she could still hope, and do her very best to have this peace treaty succeed.

Almost two hours after the Daxamite was supposed to arrive, Kara and Astra received a message that a ship had entered their atmosphere. Together they made their way to the platform, ready to welcome the Daxamite Prince and his guards. She thought it was a little ridiculous that the planet was sending a spoiled Prince as their envoy, for she had heard nothing but bad things about the Prince. He was supposed to be a ridiculous partier, and completely irresponsible. She expected his coming rather than a true politician was because the Daxamites really had no intention of making the treaty work. Still, Kara hoped things would work out for the best.

The ship landed and its platform door opened slowly. The Prince walked behind a group of three guards, a slight surprise to Kara, as she had assumed there were to be no Daxamites arriving. But regardless, the council had already assigned a group of Kryptonian guards to keep an eye on the Prince - for both his protection, as well as Krypton’s. As the four Daxamites descended, Kara heard a member of the council mumble a complaint under their breath. No one was particularly thrilled with the idea of a Daxamite in the city - let alone four - but it was a necessary evil if they wanted this war to possibly end without further bloodshed.

When the Daxamite guards split, and presented the Prince to the waiting Kryptonians, however, Kara’s mouth fell open in astonishment. She couldn’t believe her eyes. The Daxamite soldier she had helped, was really the Prince? How was that possible, she wondered. Though she had seen his name was Mon-El in the documents, it had never occurred to her that he was the soldier from before. It was unheard off that a member of the Royal Family would actually participate in any real conflict. They liked to hide away in their palace, and let their people die for them. But this one had been on the battlefield, and had even been injured. Though some of his cluelessness now made sense, Kara could not wrap her head around why a prince was on a battlefield.

“Prince Mon-El, it is a pleasure to have you here,” Alura said, taking the lead for the council. She extended a hand in welcome and the Prince shook it before surveying the council. “I am Alura Zor-El, and these are the other members of the Kryptonian Peace Council.”

“Thank you all for having me, I -” he began but stuttered when he saw Kara. She wondered if he was as astonished as she was to cross paths with him again. “I’m hopeful that we can reach an agreement to bring an end to this war,” he finished after a moment. Kara could not help but notice that he had said ‘agreement’ rather than ‘compromise’.

Astra held up a hand to show him inside as she said, “We have arranged a set of rooms for you and your guards, Major Kara Zor-El will show you where. I assume you’d like a few moments to settle in first. We will have dinner in an hour, and I will have someone guide you to the hall when the time comes. Then tomorrow we will begin negotiations.” With a bow of her head, Astra left the platform then with the other council members, leaving Kara alone with Mon-El and the guards.

“Please follow me, Prince,” Kara said, as she headed inside and towards Mon-El’s quarters.

“I thought you were a captain,” he said, coming up next to her as they headed down the hallway.

“And I thought you were a soldier,” she retorted, slightly offended at his mocking tone.

“Would you really have helped me if you had known I was a prince?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and giving her a knowing look.

She had to admit that most likely she would have been obligated to turn him over to her commanders, had she known who he was. But then again, she really had broken protocol by helping him in the first place - regular soldier or not.

“That’s what I thought,” he said.

“You don’t know what I would have done,” she said. “Are you planning on taking my advice and doing something with your power, now?”

Mon-El shrugged. “I guess I’ll see what I can do.”

They walked in silence the rest of the way, as Kara was trying hard not to say something she might regret. Though the Prince was clearly spoiled, she told herself that there must be some hope. After all, there had seemed to be some good in the soldier she had saved in the ravine - surely there was some good in this prince too.

When they finally reached his quarters, Kara motioned for him to enter as the doors whooshed open. “Are the guards for my protection or yours?” Mon-El asked, gesturing to the two soldiers stationed on either side of the door.

She shrugged, “Both.”

Mon-El rolled his eyes but entered the room without further complaint, his entourage closely behind. It took him a few moments to notice that Kara had not followed him inside, and he stepped back outside to say something.

Before he could, however, she said, “I’ll be going, now that you have found your quarters. There should be plenty of space for you and your men. Please make yourselves comfortable and someone will be by later to bring you to dinner.” Then with a slight bow, she turned and headed back down the hallway.


	3. Around The Shadows Creep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to post this, but hopefully the wait was worth it!!! Fair warning, there are some descriptions of battlefields and battle wounds in this chapter.

She knew she would have to talk to him more, and get over the fact that he had lied about who he was to her, but for today she could be mad. She decided to give herself this first day to avoid speaking to him whenever possible, to stay annoyed - but tomorrow she would have to get over it. Tomorrow the peace negotiations began, and she needed to be able to communicate properly with him - despite their history. She couldn’t quite explain why it bothered her so much, as it was not like they had had a long acquaintance or anything. Kara told herself it was because she had put her career and life on the line for someone who had not trusted her enough with his true name. But if she was being honest with herself, he did have a logical reason for concealing who he was. Still, it bothered her.  
  
Kara reached her room and collapsed onto her bed. She knew there were several forms waiting for her approval and signature on her nightstand, but currently she needed to take a moment for herself. So she layed back on her pillows and stared up at her ceiling, planning on just taking a moment to breathe and relax herself.  
  
  
She awoke two hours later to a furious knock on her door. “Oh no,” she said to herself as she jumped off her bed. She took the briefest of glances in the mirror to make sure she did not look too disheveled before opening the door to an angry Uncle Non.  
“Your files are late, and we need them to plan for tomorrow’s meetings,” Non informed her. He had never been a fan of Kara’s, and he certainly never tried to hide it unless Aunt Astra, his wife, was around.  
  
“I know, I’m very sorry, sir. I’ll have them sent in promptly. I was just looking them over once more before signing them,” Kara lied. She hated lying, but it was sometimes the only way to deal with Non and his rage.  
  
“You have until I reach the meeting room to sign and send them in,” he said before turning and walking away.  
  
Kara heaved a sigh. Non was right to be angry with her, and she was frustrated with herself for allowing such a thing to happen. Her first day on the job, nonetheless. Quickly, she glanced over the files and signed her name before sending the virtual files off to the high council.  
  
It was almost time for dinner already, so she decided to get ready to leave. While she was changing, a note arrived informing her that she was to escort Prince Mon-El to the dinning hall. She let out a long groan at the thought of having to deal with the prince all night.  
  
“It is what it is, I suppose,” Kara told herself, resigned to her duties.  
  
She finished getting dressed and headed towards Mon-El’s chambers. When she arrived she rapted on his door and tried to take a relaxing breath before he slid the door open. “I’m your escort to dinner, it seems,” Kara informed him when he came out.  
  
“Wonderful, we can talk, and you can’t run off this time,” Mon-El said with a somewhat playful smirk.  
  
“Great,” Kara replied with some bitterness.  
  
“Come on, how can you hate me that much already?” Mon-El asked as he donned his jacket and stepped out to follow her down the corridor. His guards were right behind him. “What did I do that was so offensive to you?”  
  
“You lied to me.”  
  
“And you didn’t? You didn’t tell me you were a peace negotiator; you led me to believe you were just a common soldier too.”  
  
“That’s because three days ago, I was just a common captain. I was just promoted when I returned to camp after _saving your life_ ,” Kara informed him.  
  
There was a moment's pause as they walked. “I only lied to protect myself, not because I meant any harm to you.”  
  
It took a few moments for Kara to dismantle her pride enough to respond with, “I know.”  
  
Mon-El stopped walking and crossed his arms. “Why won’t you look at me then?”  
  
Kara took a deep breath and turned to face him. “I don’t know, take your pick. Because having you here puts me at risk of being court marshalled for helping the enemy on a battlefield? Or because your deception irks me in a way I can’t quite explain? Either way please, just let me be.”  
  
Mon-El dropped his arms and lowered his head in a look of defeat, “Alright. I’m sorry.”  
  
They walked the rest of the way to the dining hall in an almost-awkward silence. When they arrived at the hall however, chatter was heard from outside, though it grew quiet upon their entrance. Kryptonian leaders sat on either side of the dining table, all with rather guarded expressions on their faces. Mon-El and Kara took the two available seats and the meal and discussion slowly resumed.  
  
The prince’s guards stood near Mon-El’s chair, which was of course across from Kara’s. It seemed she was not going to get her day of anger, not with Mon-El beside her and the council’s eyes on them all night. The air in the room was stiff, to say the least, but Kara was hungry enough to ignore it.  
  
“So, are you finding your accommodations suitable?” Mag-Num asked as he dabbed remnants of food from his lips with one of the silky napkins. He was another council member and a constant thorn in Alura’s side, according to Astra. Her aunt had attempted to give a rundown of all the council members to Kara before the Daxam ship arrived, and had explained most of them, but not in grave detail. Thus, Kara knew to be suspicious of him, since he supposedly was hard on her mother, and would likely not warm to her either. But Kara was unsure of the reason why Mag-Num and Alura did not get along.  
  
“Oh, yes, they’re just fine, thank you,” Mon-El said, around a mouthful of food. Kara wondered if his politics were any better than his eating habits, which were clearly lacking. She heard the prince’s guard clear his throat, likely trying to remind the wayward prince of his manners - a little late, if you asked her.  
  
“Well, I apologize if it doesn’t live up to your high standards as a prince of Daxam. But here most of our resources have been redirected to the war and relief efforts,” Kan Fen-Ze said in a rather bitter tone. She was older than the other council members and, like most, had lost nearly everything to the war. She was also a slightly distant relative of Kara’s; though she had only ever met her once or twice as a child, since most contact with the House of Ze, Astrid and Alura’s family, was cut off upon Alura’s acceptance into the House of El. From what Kara remembered of her distant aunt, she had never been a very nice or courteous person.  
  
“Of course,” Mon-El said, clearly uncomfortable at the insinuation that he looked down upon Kryptonian hospitality. “I hope we can try to put an end to such necessary sacrifices soon,” he added.  
  
Kan opened her mouth to say something more, but Kara quickly cut her off by saying, “As do we all, thank you. But talks of politics should be saved for tomorrow at the meetings, don’t we all agree?”  
  
The others nodded in agreement, and Kan Fen-Ze gave a stiff nod before returning to her meal in dissatisfaction. Mon-El gave Kara a grateful look, but she ignored it. She had not done it for him, but for her people. The peace talks needed to be successful, and Kan was clearly going to be a liability if she kept up her current mood when the talks began.  
  
Everyone seemed to return to their private conversations with each other after that, and Kara kept her eyes on her plate or the conversations around her, pointedly avoiding eye-contact with Mon-El. She could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to meet them and risk encouraging him to start a conversation between them.  
  
When the meal was over, and everyone rose to leave however, he caught her at the door and asked for help to find his way back to her room. She reluctantly agreed, knowing she needed to appear gracious in front of the other council members - even if she really wanted to strangle Mon-El for cornering her. Together they walked once more down the halls, towards his chambers, with his guard trailing behind them.  
  
“Thanks for saving me from the Inquisitor back there,” he finally said, when they were out of earshot of the other council members.  
  
Kara shrugged. “Figured we didn’t need you putting your foot in your mouth just yet, if we could avoid it.”  
  
Mon-El gave a laugh. “Well, I suppose you’re right about that. Still, I appreciate it.”  
  
She nodded and kept quiet for a few moments. Then she tentatively said, “I hope you won’t take it too personally tomorrow, if more members are as defensive as Kan Fen-Ze was tonight. I’m not saying they will be, but if they are, it’s simply because we’re all tired and hurt from being at war for so long. So please, don’t hold it against us all.”  
  
Mon-El seemed a bit taken aback by her statement. “We are here to discuss peace, and we’ve all been hurt badly by this long war. I’m not here to attack anyone, and I would expect the same from the council.”  
  
Nodding and putting up a hand in apology, she said, “Of course. I hope we can all agree peacefully on a solution that will work for us all. All I ask is that you have patience with everyone tomorrow, because negotiating peace isn’t going to be easy.”  
  
“I don’t need you to tell me how to do my job,” he said hotly.  
  
“I’m not,” she said, growing frustrated herself. “I’m just saying--”  
  
“How I should do my job tomorrow. I have my orders, and I plan to follow them. Maybe you should go talk to your own people, and convince them to be cordial tomorrow, instead of cornering me.”  
  
They’d reached his chambers then, and he stalked into his room without another word or glance, closing the door rather rudely behind him. Kara sighed and almost moved to knock on the door, to attempt to smooth things over. But the guards came to stand by the door and gave her a warning glance. It wasn’t a glance that told her to leave, necessarily, but one that said it might be a bad idea to push the prince any further tonight. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and nodded a good night to the guards before stalking off to her own chambers.

~~~

Mon-El flopped onto his bed, knowing full well that Gareth would be coming in any minute to give him a scolding for speaking to a Kryptonian council member as he had. And sure enough, a few moments later, Gareth came into the room. Instead of saying anything, however, the tall guard just crossed his arms and stared down at Mon-El, laid out on his bed.  
  
“What?” Mon-El said, innocently. “She was being rude! With her huge Kryptonian ego, thinking she knows best.”  
  
“Because in this particular situation, she does,” was the only response.  
  
Mon-El let out a groan. “Well, why doesn’t she just go to her own people to warn them?”  
  
Gareth raised an eyebrow.  
  
“What?”  
  
Rolling his eyes, Gareth said in a rather condescending tone, “Because she probably knows she can’t convince them to change, but she might be able to alter your opinion.”  
  
Mon-El sat up and tossed his arms in the air, letting them drop dramatically into his lap. “But isn’t that deceptive? She’s trying to trick me into following her lead!”  
  
“Sir, do you really think she intends on manipulating you?”  
  
Mon-El considered for a moment, and resigned to a pout. “No, not really.”  
  
Gareth nodded, an air of superiority surrounding him.  
  
“What does it matter anyway, since my parents clearly have no intention of actually making peace. They just want a surrender, which isn’t likely to happen. Kryptonians are too proud for that.”  
  
The taller man once more just lifted an eyebrow, waiting for Mon-El to come to the correct answer on his own.  
  
After a minute of deliberation, Mon-El realised that he was on his own here. “I could do it anyway, since they aren’t exactly here to discuss it themselves. But who’s to say they won’t just break any deal I make with the Kryptonians?”  
  
“You’ll have to answer that yourself, sir.”  
  
Falling backwards onto the bed once more, Mon-El let out a frustrated groan. “Why does it have to be me?”  
  
“Because you are the prince, sir.” There seemed to be a hint of amusement in Gareth’s voice.  
  
“Well, I’d rather not be.”  
  
“Get some rest, sir. I suspect it will be a busy day tomorrow.”  
  
Mon-El waved a hand in dismissal to his friend, lifting his head just as the door closed behind Gareth.

~~~ 

_It took him a moment to orientate himself and to realize he was back on the battlefield with Bo-Den; the smoke clogging the air and making it hard to see more than a foot in front of him. Between the clamor of fighting ringing in his ears, and the dust and smoke filling his lungs, Mon-El could barely focus on what Bo was shouting into his ear.  
  
Mon-El cursed himself for convincing his bodyguard and friend to bring him here, to the center of the fray. It was an idiotic idea, he realized now, just a little belated. He’d wanted to see what it was like, thinking it might be a fun adventure for them. His parents had kept him quite closed off from the war, and he’d never complained about it, but it had made him romanticise what the fighting would be like. And now he’d come to the battle, with his best friend, and could barely think because of all the noise and destruction and smoke surrounding them.  
  
“We need to move, sire,” Bo shouted into Mon-El’s ear, a hand on his back as they both leaned over, trying to avoid the flying dirt around them. “Please, let’s go back.”  
  
Mon-El nodded, and turned to follow his friend back to the pod they had taken here. They’d left the pod back in the canyon, a fair distance away from the fighting, and Mon-El had no idea how to get back, but trusted that Bo would. They were barely on the edge of the battlefield, and yet the air was thick with dirt and smoke from blasting guns that blew up the ground beneath the feet of soldiers, tearing people apart and scattering them across the rocks of the desert. Mon-El was horrified at the carnage before him, and now understood why his parents had shielded this side of the war from him--despite his being far old enough to run a legion himself.  
  
He kept a hand on Bo’s back, so as to not lose him in the fray, and stepped carefully around rocks and limbs. They were just coming out of the smoke, and to the base of the canyon when something grabbed Mon-El’s leg, nearly tripping him. He turned and realized that it was a dying soldier, his stomach sliced and blood pooling around him as he clutched Mon-El’s leg, pleading for help. Mon-El stood in shock, unsure of what to do, he had a desire to help the man, who wore the Daxam uniform, but he had no experience in medicine, nor had he much experience with blood in general. The sight sickened him, in all honesty, and he felt his stomach churn at the horrific realization that this was happening to soldiers all around them.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Mon-El was about to say, but Bo stepped in between them suddenly and pushed the soldier away with his boot, causing him to cry out in pain. “Leave him,” Bo instructed before guiding Mon-El away.  
  
He felt a pang of guilt at leaving the soldier, but he brushed the feeling away, and focused again on following Bo into and through the canyon. Once inside the canyon, the noise of the battlefield became muffled and distant. There were less bodies in the ravines, but there were clear signs of previous battles being fought there, as unnatural holes and marks in the walls and rocks had clearly been made by Daxamite and Kryptonian weapons.  
  
They picked their way through the crevices and ravines, and although they all looked the same to Mon-El, Bo seemed to know where he was going. The area seemed abandoned to Mon-El as they had not come across anyone on their way through before, but Bo kept his weapon out, ready to strike at every turn. Suddenly though, as they started to turn a corner, a shot rang out. Bo shoved Mon-El backwards against the red rockwall, making him hiss as a sharp piece dug into the middle of his back.  
  
Bo hushed him as he crouched forward towards the edge of the wall, weapon ready to fire. Everything suddenly seemed quiet, and Mon-El had a sudden urge to crack a joke, despite the tense situation. Or perhaps because of the tense situation, as he had never been very good with them. Still, he resisted the urge and tried to focus on the sounds around them, like Bo was doing.  
  
It was a difficult process, to focus and keep his mind on one solid thing when so much was happening. He could still feel the grip of the dying soldier on his leg, and smell the blood and dust from the battlefield. And now he was waiting behind his guard, possibly about to die at the hands of a Kryptonian soldier. His parents would certainly be cross with him about that. Dying out in a field, on a planet he wasn’t supposed to be on, just because he was curious. Certainly a fitting end for him though.  
  
There was a crunch of dirt and rocks under a foot just around the corner, and Bo held a hand up to tell Mon-El to remain where he was. Then the guard stepped quickly out from behind their hiding spot, his weapon up and pointed, and the sound of shots firing rang out._

Mon-El flung forward, nearly pitching himself off the bed. A scream was locked in his throat as the sound of the blasters continued to ring in his ears. After a moment of icey fear paralyzing him, he realized where he was. In bed, out of the canyon, and safe. Sweat was rolling down his back and chest, and it made him shiver.  
  
A dream, just a dream.  
  
He glanced at the timepiece beside the bed and collapsed back onto the pillows and sheets. There was still another two hours before he needed to be presentable. He wondered vaguely if Gareth would be able to get him any alcohol at this hour, or at least some company. The bed seemed cold and lonely now, and he didn’t think he’d be able to fall back asleep anytime soon anyway. With a shrug he got up and went to the door that led to Gareth’s side chambers. He knocked, wondering idly if Gareth would be awake yet. The man rarely seemed to sleep, being that he was always up and ready long before Mon-El and long after Mon-El had fallen asleep most nights. But presumably that was simply Gareth’s job, and he seemed to enjoy it enough.  
  
There was a noise behind the door, and then it swung open as Gareth greeted him. Mon-El was only mildly surprised to see him fully dressed in his blue Daxam royal guard uniform, his hair combed and styled for the day. “Sir, is everything alright?” He seemed genuinely worried, probably because Mon-El was never awake this early. Usually he had to be dragged out of bed at the last possible second.  
  
Waving a hand dismissively at the note of concern, Mon-El said simply, “I’m not that tired right now. Do you think there’s any alcohol or company available at this hour?”  
  
A look of surprise and maybe some disapproval flashed across Gareth’s face. He fixed his expression quickly, however, and considered Mon-El’s inquiry. “I’m not certain that there is this morning, sir. I don’t believe the Kryptonian embassy has interest in such things and likely won’t have any in the building. But I can of course see to it by tonight, as I am certain there is some of both to find in this city.”  
  
Mon-El nodded, though his shoulders dropped slightly in disappointment. “Of course, thank you, Gareth.” He smirked up at his friend. “Now go back to sleep, Overachiever, we still have two hours until the meetings start.” Waving another hand in dismissal, he turned back to his own room to return to his bed alone.

~~~ 

Kara adjusted the belt around her waist, and tried to remember to breathe as she stared her reflection down. Absently, she touched the House of El sigil that was pressed into her white dress in the middle of her chest. The dress hung fairly loosely around her shoulders, and extended to the floor in sheer white folds. But the almost translucent sleeves were slightly tight around her arms, making her movements more restricted than she liked. It had been her favorite dress before she joined the military, but she hadn’t realized how different her body had become from being a soldier. Her torso was slimmer, but her arms were now strong and less delicate under her sleeves. She would have to search for some better fitting clothes after today. But for now, it would have to do.  
  
“You are going to do just fine, just trust yourself,” she instructed the reflection in the glass with as much conviction as she could muster. Despite being raised around politicians and scientists, Kara had never had any real experiences with them. Since she joined the war, she acted as a soldier, not a delegate like she was going to be today. “You can do this.” With one last nod of reassurance to the figure in the mirror, Kara spinned on her heel and headed out of her room and down the hall to the first peace meeting.  
  
When she entered the circular hall, three of the other four Kryptonian council members were already inside. Kara had been in the hall only once before, as a child accompanying her mother who was a silent representative at the time. Now, the Global Room was reserved for special occasions, and was off limits to anyone who didn’t require access to it. At least, since they had been at war, that was the case.  
  
It was a large hall that had five circular podiums built into the middle of the room, in a circular fashion. Behind each podium were several rows of seats for silent representatives, people who were there to offer advice when asked, and who would later report to their guilds or cities what had transpired in the room. They were essentially the audience and record keepers, while the five in the center were the actual ones to make the decisions and discuss the matters at hand. Normally the speakers were chosen carefully from the silent representatives, but given the gravity of this particular discussion, the council had apparently decided it fit to bring in an outsider - Kara. The other members were experienced in such delegations, but she was not, and felt how unqualified they all thought she was - and she was inclined to agree with them.  
  
Taking another deep breath to calm her nerves, she stepped further into the room, it buzzed with noise as all the representatives and delegates talked amongst themselves. Kara certainly felt left out in the large room, but was happy to see her mother and aunt together, and she picked her way through the crowd to them.  
  
“It certainly is busy in here,” Kara remarked, embracing her mother and aunt in a warm and welcoming hug. At least with them here, she knew she had people on her side - even if it was only two.  
  
“Well, none of the representatives were going to miss this meeting, that’s for sure,” was Alura’s response. She tucked a piece of hair behind Kara’s ear and cupped her daughter’s face lovingly. “It’s nice to have you here with us though.”  
  
“Agreed,” Astra said with a smile.  
  
It was nice to see her aunt and mother getting along, for they had always had their differences. But they did stand by one another when it really mattered, Kara thought, and now was certainly a time that mattered. They all needed to be united to make the best of these meetings and hopefully bring an end to the war.  
  
“Oh, here comes the Daxamite,” Alura noted, nodding her head towards the door.  
  
Turning around, Kara saw the prince coming into the room, clearly surprised by how many Kryptonians he was suddenly facing in the large room. His two guards walked closely behind him, and Kara saw the taller one whisper something to Mon-El. His clothes were formal and elegant, a dark blue jacket and pants. She noticed too that he wore what she could only assume was a royal sash across his chest. It was white, with a solid blue stripe running down the center, and had a flourishing seal where the ends met and rested on his hip.  
  
When Kan Fen-Ze saw the prince, she called the meeting to order. Kara watched as all the people standing about and chatting suddenly moved in a swarm, like a flock of birds, into their seperate places among the stands. Kara and the five other delegates moved into their own places on the podiums, and Kan motioned for Mon-El to move into the center before them.  
  
The room fell completely silent then, all eyes were on the prince. Kara couldn’t help but have some sympathy for the prince, who had to be intimidated by his current position. It was as if he was on trial, standing before all of them looking down on him as they were. But if he was scared, he hid it well. His face remained blank, his hands clasped loosely behind him as he stepped forward and into place on his own podium. His guards remained just a little behind him, both clearly ready to defend their prince if anyone thought to threaten his safety.  
  
“Our planets have been at war for a long time, and it’s time we find a solution to end the fighting.” Kan spoke clearly and her voice echoed and was amplified through the large room. “Is there anything you’d like say first, Prince of Daxam?”  
  
“Well, you call me Prince Mon-El or just sir, if you like. Prince of Daxam might get a bit tiring,” he said with a smirk and tilt of his head. Kara suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “But I would like to say that I too,” he continued in more serious tone. “Hope we can come to an agreement. Our worlds have indeed been fighting for far too long.”  
  
“Do you have a proposal for us?”  
  
“I do,” he began, pulling a tablet from his jacket. Taking a breath, he started to read it aloud to his audience. Everyone listened as he described what turned out to be various demands. Krypton would share its natural resources with Daxam until theirs were restored. Kryptonians were not to ever set foot on Daxam again, at risk of enslavement. Krypton would elect a new leader, one approved by the Daxam Royals. “Recompense to Daxam families who had lost a child to th-”  
  
“Are you here to simply list ridiculous demands, or offer a settlement agreement?” Kan asked incredulously, raising a hand to stop Mon-El’s reading.  
  
Kara thought he looked very tired suddenly, as if he didn’t want to be reading the list anymore than the Kryptonian council wanted to hear it. “These are the instructions I have, Ma’am.”  
  
It was Astra that spoke up then, though Kan had clearly intended to give her own response. “Are you prepared to listen to our requirements for peace?”  
  
Mon-El seemed to hesitate, but nodded. “I would be happy to hear them. Please,” he motioned for her to explain them.  
  
Alura then read from their own list, with almost the same ridiculous demands, Kara thought. However, it was understandable that Krypton wanted such recompense after the war had taken such a toll on their planet and resources. Daxam had not seen more than a handful of battles on its soil, but Krypton had suffered from years of war.  
  
“Surely we can come to a compromise together,” Kara said hopefully when Alura was done. Her mother shot her a serious look, one she had seen numerous times growing up. It was the signal for her to be silent and let the adults talk. She tried to not take it personally, but it hurt to receive such a look when she was supposed to be representing their people as well.  
  
“We would require recompense for the damage and destruction to our planet over the years, as well as the toll this war has taken on our people,” Astra told Mon-El.  
  
He nodded, but had a mocking smile on his face. Kara couldn’t help but shake her head at how casual he was being in such an important meeting. “And Daxam naturally requires the same, so-” he stopped short as his eyes rested on Kara. She was doing her best to shoot daggers at him with her eyes, desperately attempting to shut him up and make him willing to bend for peace.  


 ~~~

He’d been about to give a smart remark, but in seeing Kara’s desperate and rather frustrated glare, he stopped short. Her face was rather cute when it was in such a pout, he thought. But it also reminded him of what she had told him before on the battlefield, _People want to believe they have no power, but they do. It is just a matter of having the courage to do something with what you have been given._ He took a breath, and tried to think of a way to swing this conversation back on the right track. His mother and father had given him orders to list Daxam’s peace demands, but they hadn’t exactly told him not to hear other offers. Not in so many words, anyway.  
  
Clasping his hands together to bring his audience back to attention, he said, “It sounds like we all desire recompense for the damage our worlds have taken during the war. I’d like for us to reach an agreement however, one that can satisfy us both.”  
  
The council members nodded in reluctant agreement, and the discussion began once again. They argued back and forth for nearly an hour, struggling to make any compromise that would satisfy either side. Mon-El started to wonder if it was even possible for them to reach an agreement, after all their worlds had been at each other’s throats for centuries. The Kryptonians were a stubborn race. Still, he had to try, they all did.  
  
After nearly two hours of arguing in circles and not coming to a single agreement, Kan raised her hand and spoke up. “We are making no advances here, let’s break and reconvene in twenty minutes. Perhaps then some of us will be more capable of compromise.” The last comment was directed at Mon-El with a painfully obvious glare of warning.  
  
“A wonderful idea,” Mon-El said, bowing respectfully and pointedly ignoring Kan’s remark.  
  
The creak of people rising from benches echoed through the hall as everyone began to file out and into the corridors. Mon-El looked for Kara, but she had been engulfed by the crowd, unable to be seen. “Sir, shall we return to your chambers?” Gareth asked from behind.  
  
Hesitating, Mon-El glanced about for the blonde Kryptonian once more. Not finding her, he reluctantly agreed and let Gareth lead the way through the crowd and halls. Once they were out of earshot of the Kryptonians, Gareth turned to say, “I looked into your request from this morning, by the way, Sir. There aren’t a lot of options, I’m sad to say. However, I am happy to secure one or more of them for you tonight. Here are their profiles.” He handed Mon-El a holocrystal with a handful of profiles on it, most were women, but there were two males listed as well. None were Kryptonian - hardly surprising, as they were such a prudish race. Giving only a cursory glance at the profiles, Mon-El selected a Valeronian girl that seemed attractive enough to distract him tonight, before passing the holocrystal back to Gareth.  
  
“Thank you for seeing to it, Gareth.”  
  
“My pleasure, Sir,” the guard said, slipping the holocrystal back into his pocket.  


 ~~~

“But we have to be willing to compromise too,” Kara protested. She’d been listening to her mother and aunt school her about how to handle the rest of the peace meeting for the last ten minutes. She’d hoped to catch Mon-El, but had been immediately pulled aside by her family when Kan released them from the hall. From what Kara could tell, there was no intention on either side to truly reach a peace agreement. “We can’t just give demands like them.”  
  
“Of course, my dear, but we can’t allow them to be released without some payment for the damage and trauma our planet and people have suffered over the years either,” Alura informed Kara with a rather patronizing hand on her shoulder.  
  
“What do you mean ‘be released’?”  
  
Alura hesitated, glancing to her sister for help.  
  
“We just mean they need to be held accountable, that’s all,” was Astra’s response. “We all want this war to come to an end, the only question is how it will end.”  
  
“Let’s hope without any further violence,” Kara said indignantly.  
  
“Of course.”  
  
Kara could tell they were keeping something from her, and she resented them for continuing to treat her as if she were still a child. Alura had a motherly hand on Kara’s shoulder. It was probably supposed to be comforting, but it came off to Kara as demeaning and she shrugged it off. Hurt flashed across Alura’s face, but she recovered her stoic but sympathetic look quickly. She waved a dismissive hand as she said, “Besides, I would think you would have a greater desire for recompense, since you even spent some time on the battlefield.”  
  
“That’s exactly why we need to have these negotiations be successful. Because I’ve seen first hand the destruction and suffering this war is causing for our people.” Kara took a step backwards and turned towards her aunt. “I would think you at least would have an understanding of that as well, Aunt Astra.”  
  
“Of course, but let Kan and the rest of us lead the negotiations, we’ve been preparing for this for some time now,” Astra said in a soothing voice, clearly trying to pacify Kara as well.  
  
That’s when it clicked for her. They didn’t bring her in for her prowess on the field or in representing those she had been fighting with. They brought her in because they assumed she’d be easily manipulated. That her anger towards the Daxamites would have grown on the battlefield, rather than tempered her beliefs. She hated them still, they were a terrible race of drug addicted jerks, of course. But she also knew it was time they stopped this war, before it destroyed both of their cultures and races.  
  
She focused on her mother and aunt, looking at them with a new sense of betrayal and mistrust she had never really felt towards them before. She wanted to call them out on their deception, to ask them why they would treat her like she was still a child. “Sure,” was all she said, however.  
  
When the negotiations began again, Kara remained silent as Kan tore Mon-El apart. He did his best to stand his own ground, and to make his own opinions heard, but Kan would have none of it. For the first time in a long time, Kara felt ashamed of her people, of her leaders. Glancing behind her, she could tell the other representatives in the room were caught in the fervor of Kan’s rhetoric. None of them seemed to question the woman’s harsh treatment of the Daxamite representative, who was here for peace negotiations. It was disheartening to see them act in such a way, was all she could think.

 ~~~

After taking a verbal beating from the nasty woman for nearly two more hours, Mon-El finally had had enough. He raised his hands up in surrender and declared he was done. “I have heard enough for today. I will contact my planet and relay what has happened here today,” he told them all. To his surprise, his voice came out sounding sure, because he simply felt exhausted and defeated.  
  
“Very well. Return here tomorrow morning to continue our debate.” Kan said it not as a request, but as a demand. For having invited him here, the Kryptonians certainly seemed set on making this treaty fall apart.  
  
“Of course,” he said, bowing slightly. “Please excuse me.” He walked briskly out of the room before anymore could be said, his guards falling quickly in step behind him. “Well that was a disaster,” he told Gareth as they started down the hall to their quarters. He could hear the shuffling of feet and murmuring conversations growing behind him as the Kryptonians began filing out of the great hall.  
  
“I wou-” Gareth began, but stopped abruptly as Kara swung into Mon-El’s vision, stepping in front of Mon-El.  
  
“We need to talk,” she said, slightly breathless but clearly determined, her face set in a rather cute pout that was probably meant to be intimidating. It reminded him of the angry face that a young hundr made when you took its favorite toy away.  
  
Mon-El shrugged and went to move past her but she stepped in his way again. He let out a frustrated sigh. “What, now you want to talk? You seemed awfully quiet in there today. Whatever happened to making use of the power you’re given and all that crap?” That made the determined look on her face falter slightly. “Yeah. I think we’re done talking for today. Maybe tomorrow, Princess.”  
  
“Princess? I’m not a princess! And you and I need to talk privately.”  
  
“I need a drink and my bed, but I don’t need to talk to you,” he said, pushing past her. He turned after a few steps however with a smirk to say, “See you tomorrow, Princess.”  
  
Turning back around and walking on, he heard Gareth make a disapproving sound.  
  
“What?” Mon-El asked with his most innocent voice.  
  
“Is it really wise to antagonize your one ally here?”  
  
Mon-El scoffed. “I don’t know that I’d call her an ally.”  
  
“She’s the closest one to it.”  
  
He couldn’t argue that, especially after today. Turning to give Gareth a smirk however, he reminded the guard, “I have you, though.”  
  
Gareth just glared at him.  
  
“Ugh, it was funny, okay?”  
  
The guard mumbled something about how funny it would be tomorrow, but Mon-El ignored it and kept walking.

  


Talking to his parents had been a waste of time. He relayed what had happened during the negotiations, and they seemed little surprised. “Of course the Kryptonians made their own demands without any intention of bending to ours, what else did you expect?” his mother had said in her bitter cold tone, reminding him once more how naive he was.  
  
“Can I offer them something at least, to maybe save these negotiations and our people?” Mon-El asked.  
  
“We gave you our instructions before you left here, and those instructions have not changed. If the Kryptonians don’t want to give, then they can continue to receive our forces on the battlefield.” Rhea had ended the call abruptly then, before Mon-El could respond. He flopped backwards on the bed and let out a groan, covering his face with his arms.  
  
“Well, I tried,” he told Gareth when the guard stepped forward.  
  
“Would you like me to call the woman in, sir?”  
  
Mon-El lifted an arm off his face to eye Gareth. “Did you manage to find any ale?”  
  
“I did not. But I did bring a few bottles with us, just in case. I retrieved them from the ship earlier today.” He pulled a bottle and a single glass from behind his back, the sneaky bugger.  
  
“You never disappoint, Gareth,” Mon-El declared as he sat up and greedly accepted the bottle, waving the glass away. He took a long swig from the glass, letting the sharp taste of alcohol chase all the day’s stress away. “Definitely call the girl.”  


 

_The noise from the blaster echoed through the canyon, and Mon-El couldn’t tell if there had been more than one shot because of the way the sound bounced off the red rock walls around them. His mind leaped to various conclusions: what if Bo was shot, and he had to find his way back to the ship alone? What if the other soldier killed Mon-El? What if he was taken captive?  
  
But after only a few moments, the echoing shots ceased and Mon-El risked looking out to see what had happened. The site before him was less dramatic than he’d imagined, but it was still an unpleasant one. There were a handful of long dead Kryptonian soldiers, and one with fresh blood pooling around him - presumably the one Bo had just shot. But to Mon-El’s horror, Bo was collapsed on the ground as well. Rushing over to his friend, he fell to the ground beside his head, panicked.  
  
“Bo, what do I do?” he asked frantically, his hands fluttering over Bo’s body, unsure of where to touch or how to help. There was a clear scorch mark from the Kryptonian gun on his chest, and it stunk of burnt flesh and cloth. The wound didn’t look deep, but it was still clearly severe.  
  
“Don’t worry about me,” Bo managed to say, attempting to bring a hand up to wave him away, but ended up wincing and hissing in pain.  
  
“Last time I checked your skin wasn’t supposed to be black and red on your chest.” The fabric of his shirt had been burnt into his flesh, leaving threads of fabric woven into his burnt chest. Mon-El was certain he’d never seen anything so horrifying - even the carnage of the battlefield he’d just been at was easier to digest than the sight of his injured friend before him. “Tell me what to do, please.”  
  
Bo’s eyes were struggling to stay open, as his breathing became more ragged with every intake. “Leave me, find the pod. Go.”  
  
“I can’t just leave you.” Mon-El made to pick Bo up, but before he could get his arm under his friend’s head, Bo put a hand up to stop him.  
  
His movements were slow and wavering, almost as if he were drunk, like the time he’d convinced Bo to play a drinking game with him. They’d sloshed around Mon-El’s room at the end of the night, singing songs so loudly that his mother had sent more guards to silence them. Bo’d been punished for it, but it had been fun all the same. Mon-El wished more than anything they could be back there, in the safety of the citadel where his parent’s rath was the only thing to fear.  
  
“Leave,” Bo instructed him again. When Mon-El shook his head and made no movement to leave, Bo dropped his head back and tried to sigh, which turned into a painful sounding cough. “Please, I’m already dead. You’re the prince, so save yourself.” He pressed his weapon into Mon-El’s hand and feebly attempted to push the prince away.  
  
With deep reluctance and hesitation, Mon-El placed a hand on his only friend’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I-”  
  
“Just go, you idiot. And try not to get in any more trouble, as hard as I’m sure that’ll be for you.”  
  
Rising and pushing the feelings of panic and despair down, Mon-El turned to find his way back to the pod. He had a lot of skill in repressing his feelings by now, but it was always harder when he was sober, as he was now. He focused on his breathing and tried to remember the way back to the pod. He came to a divide in the canyon and struggled to recall which way he should be going. Randomly deciding, he went veered to the left, but suddenly heard movement coming towards him. He tried to duck behind some coverage but there was none, and before he knew what had happened his leg buckled underneath him with a sudden pain like he’d never felt before._  


He shot up straight in bed, a cold sweat covering his skin and making him shiver. It took a moment before he realized where he was. A hand rested on his shoulder as the woman beside him sat up drowsily, asking if he was alright.  
  
“What? Yeah, fine, fine,” He mumbled, leaning back into the sheets. He turned to pull her body tightly against his as he breathed in the sent of her hair and kissed her neck, taking it in like a drug, needing to focus on something, anything else. He wrapped his arms around her and clung to her, hoping desperately that if he focused enough on her that it would expel the memory out of his mind and body.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! This chapter was particularly challenging to write, as the next one will be, since they deal heavily with the negotiations and background on the characters and world. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up within another month though (or at least faster than I got this one up..). Thanks so much for sticking with me through my crazy hiatus (grad school is kicking my butt)! As ever, comments are always appreciated :)


	4. It's Still Winter in My Wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peace negotiations continue while Mon-El and Kara struggle to find a way to make them work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for staying with me in my ridiculous and continuous absence!! Your comments and kudos are so wonderful. Anyway, more PTSD and alcohol trigger warnings for this chapter. But without further ado, here is the next chapter of this fic!

There was a soft knock on the door, as Kara was finishing getting ready for the second day of negotiations. “Come in,” she called as she put the last pin in her hair. 

With a soft gliding sound, the door opened and Kara’s Aunt Astra came into the room. She was dressed like a soldier, as ever, with her dark jumpsuit that had her house sigil stitched into it. “My dear niece,” Astra started, coming over to embrace her in greeting.

“Good morning,” Kara spoke with just a hint of scepticism. After the events of yesterday, she was rather suspicious of any interactions or signs of affection from her aunt and mother. She didn’t doubt that they still loved her, but she did suspect they might have ulterior motives for being especially kind to her at the moment. “Is there something you need?”

If Astra heard the edge to Kara’s tone, she didn’t show it. Instead, Astra led Kara to the bed and sat down with her niece. “I wanted to have a quick word with you before we go back into the halls today.” She paused, waiting for some acknowledgement from Kara. She gave none, so Astra continued, “I know you think we’re against you, but we’re not. You have to understand that your mother and I, and the other members of the council, have been dealing with the temperment of the Daxamites for so long. You’ve only struggled through a few years of the havoc they spread, where as we have dealt with decades of it.”

Drawing in a deep breath to calm herself, Kara pulled her hands free of her aunt’s supposedly comforting grasp. “But that is specifically why we need to be certain these talks are successful. We can’t just keep passing the hatred of our worlds onto the next generation. It has to end somewhere. And if older generations can’t handle it, perhaps they shouldn’t be involved.”

“You’re very right, my dear niece, that’s why you were brought in - so we could have another, younger opinion on how to solve and end this war. But we must seem a united front in the hall, standing in front of the Daxamites.”

“But I can’t agree with just arguing back and forth on these ridiculous demands that both sides seem to think they’re entitled to!”

Astra gave a sympathetic look, but truthfully it just seemed condescending to Kara. “My love, don’t you think we deserve some recompense for all the lives lost and hardships endured over so many years? Didn’t seeing that battlefield make you want to have justice for our people?”

“That’s my point though, we need to stop the fighting at any cost,” Kara insisted.

“Would you let us accept their terms and be subject to those crude Daxamite Royals?”

“No! No of course not. But we have to be willing to compromise.”

Astra reminded Kara that the prince had shown no signs of compromising yesterday either.

Knowing there was little use in arguing, Kara simply stood before motioning towards the door. “We better get moving, the meetings are going to start soon.”

Giving a warm smile, Astra hooked her arm around her niece’s and headed out towards the hall. Kara felt her stomach flop at the carelessness being taken with these talks, even by her own family. But she also had to trust that her family and the others knew best, after all they were the elected officials for a reason, right?

 

~~~

 

Mon-El had slept restlessly, once again, and his hair proved it in the morning. He glanced at the girl lying in his bed, still peacefully asleep, through the looking glass. It was nothing new for him, to drown out his mind with sex and alcohol, he’d been doing it since he was a teenager. His father had taught him actually, how to numb himself to the emotions that tried to clutter his brain. The Queen would never stand for an emotional husband or child, so Mon-El learned quickly from his father how to drown out whatever he was feeling, in order to push forward. He wished he could sleep as peacefully as the girl in his bed, and wondered absently if he ever would again.

For now, he had to get ready for the events of the day, and went to the bathroom to start. The shower had fixed the mess of hair, but it had done little to clear his cluttered mind. When he came out of the shower, the girl had already disappeared - likely Gareth’s doing - so Mon-El proceeded in getting ready for another round with the Kryptonians.

He couldn’t say he was particularly prepared or thrilled to return to the hall and receive another verbal beating from the self-righteous Kryptonians; but he figured he had to at least try. He’d have today and tomorrow to try and salvage this attempt for peace, but how to go about it was lost to him still. His parents refused to compromise, and the Kryptonians refused to bow. Gareth seemed to think that Kara would know what to do, but Mon-El wasn’t so sure. She seemed to either side with her people against him; or at the very least have as little influence as he did.

Once dressed, he took a last swig of alcohol - thank goodness he had that at least - and headed out towards the hall. Gareth had been waiting outside the door for him and fell quickly into step behind him. The guard inquired in a delicate tone, aware of Mon-El’s nervousness most likely, what the plan might be.

“I’m winging it,” was his blunt reply. He could feel Gareth’s disapproving look boring into his back, but did his best to ignore it. “Look, my parents won’t honor any alliance I try to establish on my own, so my only real chance is finding a way to bring these crazy Kryptonians to _ their  _ senses.”

“Yes, but perhaps you should seek some advice in order to succeed in such an endeavour.”

Mon-El knew what his friend was getting at, and he knew he was right. But he also knew that he probably had destroyed any chance of Kara actually helping him at this point. Still, he figured he should try. “I’ll see about talking to her again today, but I don’t know if it’ll do any good. Satisfied?”

“Exceedingly,” Gareth said flatly.

They made their way to the hall, glanced inside for Kara but upon seeing she was not there they decided to wait just outside for her to appear. Gareth stood stoically beside Mon-El, conscious of being watched and knowing his duty. Normally the prince would take pleasure at teasing his guard out of such a stance, but he figured it would be a little too risky, considering their surroundings. Although Mon-El did not truly fear for his life, he was conscious that it was threatened by being in such close proximity to the heads of state of the world that was trying to destroy his. After Bo, he was not in any hurry to risk the safety of his guards again. He pushed the thought of his friend away before it could overwhelm him, wishing he had finished that bottle this morning.

Then suddenly Kara was there, walking beside her mother (or was it her aunt?). Mon-El stepped forward as they drew closer, headed for the large entry into the hall. “Hi, uh, Captain?” It felt odd calling her that, but it seemed like the right choice with so many Kryptonian officials around -- best to show the proper respect, he supposed. “Can I have a word?”

Kara and her mother (aunt?) turned towards him; one with a curious but clearly annoyed expression, the other with pure disdain. “It’s time for the meeting, Prince Mon-El,” Kara’s companion informed him -- as if he didn’t know.

“I am aware. Please, just a quick word?”

Kara nodded and gestured for her companion to go on without her. “We’ll be right in, Aunt Astra.” The aunt gave a suspicious and bitter look towards Mon-El, but headed inside the hall. After she was gone, Kara crossed her arms and cocked her head at him. “So, now you’re ready to hear what I have to say?”

He deliberated for a moment about telling her off for her attitude, but bit his tongue and shook the desire away. “Yes, maybe. My parents are being stubborn, and so I’d like to know if your people are planning on bending at all.” He didn’t pose it like a question, and it came out a little more demanding than he had meant, but he hoped she would help all the same.

There was a beat as Kara seemed to let his statement sink in, though she looked rather disbelieving. “There has to be compromise on both sides. I can’t say my people are the most thrilled with your conditions--”

“Or mine at yours,” he reminded her.

She gave him a look and continued, “But I’m trying to convince them to bend some. However, we’re not about to just lay down our defenses and submit to your rule.” She seemed unsure about something, but he couldn’t quite make out as to why or what it was.

Mon-El ran a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“Look, we can discuss this later, for now we are needed inside -- where the real deliberations are taking place,” she said with a wave of her hand towards the door.

“After you then.”

 

~~~

 

The second day of negotiations were just as unproductive as the first day had been, Kara thought. Mon-El once again asked for some compensation for his world, and Kan once more shot him down at every turn. They were going to get nowhere if someone did not start making a compromise. However, Kara knew she did not have the power to overrule Kan and her mother, both who seemed adamant for these negotiations to fail. Halfway through the talks, Kara decided an attempt at a discussion with the other council members, alone, was the only hope she had. She decided to try and convince them to talk after dinner tonight. Thus when Kan finally released them all for the day, with no more progress made, Kara quickly made her way to Mag-Num and Astra to ask for their ears later. Though both seemed reluctant, Astra’s agreement seemed to convince Mag-Num to agree as well.

It was late after dinner when Kara left to go meet the other two in one of the council rooms. There were several rooms that were most often vacant in the building, and all were open to any council member at any time. With an additional fear of being seen in the halls, and wanting to seem like this was not an underhanded task; it seemed wise to meet in one of said vacant rooms. They were almost all identical, plain rooms with seats lined along the walls.

Kara stepped into their designated room, and found that only Mag-Num had arrived before her. She greeted him and took a seat in the room. “We probably should wait for my aunt to arrive,” she said, and he only nodded in agreement.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Mag-Num asked after a few moments of silent waiting.

Kara was slightly taken aback by his direct question. It didn’t have malice in it, not really, it was more curious and concerned. “I’m working on it,” she confessed. “But I know that we need to do something or these negotiations will be completely torn apart and we’ll continue to fight each other for who knows how long.”

He shook his head sadly. “You really don’t know what your parents have been up to, I suppose.” He looked over at Kara with a cold but almost sympathetic look. “You are so young and naive still.”

“What do you mean? My parents are trying to help end the war, why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” She felt her face flush with anger, but tried to contain it in her tone.

“I support the end of this war, I think we all do. But I don’t support how they’re looking to go about it.” His eyes grew cold and hard but in a flash the expression was gone, and his normal, bored face appeared again.

“What do--” Kara began, but was cut off by a greeting from her aunt in the doorway behind her.

“Please forgive my tardiness, I was caught up. But please, let’s get started,” Astra said, sounding strangely chipper. “What were you hoping to discuss with us, Kara?” She asked, taking a seat in the room and settling in.

Though tempted to finish the question she had begun before Astra’s entrance, something in Mag-Num’s suddenly blank expression told her not to. Instead, she began with what was hopefully a convincing argument to stand together and make the negotiations successful. As she continued to talk, however, she started to wonder if she was really talking to the right people. Perhaps she should have gone to Mon-El again. Astra continued to gently but stubbornly oppose Kara’s idea to side with the prince on at least some points. “How could you suggest we side with him over your own people? Your own family?” she accused.

Kara raised her hands in half defeat. “I’m not saying we  _ oppose _ the other members, I’m saying we encourage them to work with the Daxamite, rather than against him. He’s treating this like a surrender, and so far we haven’t been much better. If we want these talks to succeed, we  _ have _ to start bending some -- and hopefully he will too.”

“I agree,” Mag-Num said, much to Kara’s surprise. There was a pause, as Kara hoped Mag-Num would say more, but when he failed to, Kara continued.

“Thank you, Mag-Num. I don’t have an exact plan just yet, but I was hoping that if we worked together we could find a way to make these talks a success. Because at the rate they’re currently going, there is no chance for a treaty to be struck.”

If Mag-Num had anything more to say, he kept it to himself. Astra however, was ready to speak the moment Kara paused to look hopefully at her little audience. “I think it’s a wonderful hope, Kara, but I do think we need a real plan before we make any move against the council. And at this point we don’t have one, and the talks are soon to resume, and ultimately end. My dear niece, as great as your plan is, I don’t think we’ll be able to implement it in time. But your attempt at making this right proves you were the right choice for the council.” When she had finished her own speech, Astra stood and patted Kara’s shoulder before giving a pointed look at Mag-Num and heading for the door. “For now, I think it is time we all get some rest. If anyone has a true plan in the morning, we can meet again then.”

She stood at the door, clearly waiting for the others to leave before she would. Kara was disappointed, to say the least, and had half a mind to fight her aunt right then, but she knew that set face on her aunt. There was no way she’d be able to get another full sentence heard. So, with a dejected nod, Kara agreed and walked to the door. “Just please, give it some thought tonight. And tomorrow, let’s meet back here thirty minutes before the talks begin again,” Kara said to the other two before heading down the hall. She would have a plan tomorrow, even if it meant staying up all night thinking on it.

  
  


It was nearly midnight, just as Kara was starting to give up hope when a very light knock sounded from her door. At first she thought she had imagined it, the sound was so soft. But then she heard it again, and went to see who could possibly be at her threshold at this time of night. To her surprise, it was Mag-Num, looking nervous for once. When she opened the door, he quickly slipped inside and closed the door again.

Kara opened her mouth to ask what was going on, when Mag-Num raised a hand to stop her. “I’m sorry for the intrusion so late at night, but I needed to tell you something and I wanted to be sure that I was not going to be seen,” he paused and took a breath. When he spoke again, it was in a bitter but quick tone, somewhere between angry and fearful. “I found out about it not long ago myself, but when I did I started doing everything I could to stop it. I was opposed to your coming in, since it was clear they would try to keep you on their side, they are your blood after all. However, from what I’ve seen you have very different morals than your mother or aunt -- meaning you actually have them. I don’t truly know Astra’s role in it, but I know she is not wholly opposed to it either.

“Two years ago your father started working on a genetic weapon. He led us to believe it would be helpful in bringing peace to everyone. He pitched it as if it were a cure, not a disease. But about two months ago, I found out what they were really doing -- he and your mother. He has been doing the science, but she’s been pulling the strings to convince the council that it will be a good choice when it is finished.”

“I don’t understand, what are they making?” Kara said when Mag-Num paused again. She was struggling to truly believe him, being that he was a known opponent to her mother already.

“I don’t know all the details of it, but I do know it will kill anyone who is not Kryptonian. They’re calling it Medusa.”

Kara smiled and shook her head in disbelief, there was no way her parents could stand behind, let alone plot such a scheme. “No, no you have to be mistaken, my parents are good people. They work to  _ help _ our people.”

Mag-Num gave her a deeply saddened look. “Exactly. They work to help  _ our _ people. Kryptonians. This war has been cruel on everyone, and your parents are desperate to save Krypton. But the trouble is, in their search for peace they lost their respect and regard for other species. I know how hard it is to be disillusioned by your family, parents especially. But please believe me, and help me fight this awful plan.”

Taking a step backward and shaking her head again, Kara tried to settle on one emotion as her mind spun around and around. No, it had to be false. He was mistaken, or trying to turn her against her family for some plot of his own. “No, you’re lying, you have to be.”

Mag-Num opened his mouth to say something more but Kara cut him off.

“I don’t want to hear anymore, now go,” she said, waving a hand at the door and turning away from him. There was a moment of silence, and Kara suspected Mag-Num was going to say something more but then she heard his retreating footsteps and the soft woosh of the door opening. She turned back around reluctantly, a horrid feeling stirring in the pit of her stomach. 

What if he had been telling the truth? What if her parents really had started planning something awful? In reality, it would make sense with the way they had both acted since she’d returned from the warfront. But they were her parents; the man that gave her sweets when she was younger during church services, the woman that had held her close when she cried over a skinned knee. They couldn’t really be killers, could they? Then again, she knew how war could change people for the worse. She’d seen numerous soldiers come to the warfront wide eyed and passive, only to be sent home months later for torchering Daxamites to death. Still, she wanted to believe her parents were not capable of such a drastic change.

Mag-Num’s words haunted her when she tried to sleep, and eventually she threw herself out of bed and back into some clothes. If she couldn’t sleep, maybe she could at least do something to make tomorrow a success.

  
  


~~~

 

Mon-El heaved a sigh and flopped backwards onto his bed when his mother abruptly disconnected their call. He’d tried, he really had. He’d tried more than he had on anything else before so far. But still, he failed to convince his parents of a compromise. Reaching for the bottle of ale on the nightstand, he tried to not think about how disappointed everyone was going to be in him tomorrow. His parents expected him to fail, but they’d still be angry when he got back. The Kryptonians would be angry that the negotiations had failed, and worse was the thought of Kara’s disappointment in him. She’d taken a risk for him when they’d first met, but now he was failing to repay her in kind.

He took a long swig of the ale, and let the warmth of the alcohol spread through his veins, grateful that Gareth had thought to bring it. Unfortunately, he only had this bottle left, but they would be leaving tomorrow, so it was of little concern. Plus, Mon-El had learned when he was younger that if he drank quickly and with little food, he did not need as much to get drunk. Thankfully he hadn’t had dinner yet, so the bit of ale he had left would be just fine for his needs tonight. 

Gareth came in when Mon-El was about halfway through the bottle, and already pleasantly numb to the world. “Gareth! You brought my new friend!” Mon-El exclaimed when he saw the woman from the previous night enter the room behind the guard. 

“Be sure to get some rest, sir,” Gareth warned Mon-El in a stern but comforting tone.

“You always treat me like I’m a little boy for you to care for. Why is that?” Mon-El slurred, wavering on the bed and welcoming the girl to come join him.

There was a pause, as Gareth started sweeping the room in search for any dangers to his prince. “It’s my job,” he reminded Mon-El simply. But when he was done, he moved slowly to the doorway leading to his own chamber, once there he paused. Looking towards Mon-El, who was now gladly wrapping his arms -- that felt somewhat like jelly, he thought -- around the girl in his bed. So softly and gently that Mon-El figured he must have imagined it in his alcoholic state, Gareth confessed, “Besides, someone has to help you be the king you’re meant to be, not just the blindly loyal soldier your parents want you to be.” Mon-El had to of imagined that though, because when he tried to really concentrate and refocus his eyes on the doorway, where he thought Gareth had stood, there was no one there. Mon-El shrugged it off though -- easily done when he felt so loose and confused by the ale -- and returned to enjoying the feel of the person beside him. 

Later, after the alcohol had saturated his bloodstream, and his head was thoroughly swimming, he found himself drifting off to what he hoped would be a restful sleep.

  
  


The following morning, he jolted awake, however, covered in a cold sweat. Instead of nulling his dreams, the alcohol had heightened the memories and twisted them into an even more horrifying sequence of events that night. How he would ever get over these dreams, he had no idea. He reached out for his companion, but found nothing but cold and empty sheets. The woman must’ve left some time ago, maybe just after he’d fallen asleep even.

Rubbing his hands over his face and through his mussed hair, he sat up and began the process of getting ready for his coming failure in these negotiations.

  
  


~~~

 

Standing at her podium, Kara watched silently, trying to keep her breathing in check as everyone filed into the room. She had met with her aunt and Mag-num earlier, but once again to no avail. She hadn’t mentioned anything about Mag-Num’s claim about her parents; she wasn’t sure why but something told her not to. So she’d kept the secret, and instead eyed Mag-Num carefully, looking for some sign or reason to trust him. But he sat quietly with his stoic and bored face, just the same as always.

Kara rubbed her stinging eyes before adjusting her stance as the last of the representatives entered the hall. She’d spent most of the night in the reading hall, searching for something that would help her, and had come up with next to nothing. She’d only really discovered that the accounts of how the wars started was different in nearly every text she opened, they all would only agree that the Daxamites started it. But that was of little surprise, since she’d heard varying accounts her whole life as to what started the feud between the two worlds.

She tried to push away the guilt rising in her chest at the strong possibility that these talks were going to fail. Although she’d tried, she didn’t know if she had really tried hard enough. All those soldiers out on the battlefields, dying even as she stood in the hall, could be saved if she only knew how to fix the rift between the two worlds. But the other counselors seemed set on keeping the two worlds at war, and it made her wonder why they would ever even attempt peace talks if they weren’t willing to compromise.

The meeting was called to order, and the conversation began just as it had the last two days - with arguments on both sides. The guilt inside of her chest thickened and threatened to cut off her breathing if she didn’t act soon, didn’t make one last attempt at salvaging things. It had become clear that despite his ill attempt and lack of compromise, the prince did want to make these talks work as well. But he was a captive in his own world’s politics just as much as she was to her world’s.

Mon-El grew more weary and frustrated as the day wore on, and his guard seemed to be giving him reassuring words every now and then. But eventually, Alura spoke up to silence the clatter of another heated argument about some foolish demand. Everyone looked over as her mother leaned down to hear something one of the Kryptonian guards whispered in her ear. Then, as if she had been shocked with lightning, Alura stood straight up and covered her mouth with her hands in a clear sign of shock.

Slowly lowering her hands, and wearing one of the most frightening looks of anger Kara had ever seen on her mother, Alura turned back to look at Mon-El. Astra let out a small huff of boredom, shifting her weight on her podium next to Kara’s. 

“Do Daxamites really care so little for the lives of others?” Alura asked in a scathing and accusative tone.

Mon-El looked as confused as ever, and put his hands on his waist, shifting his weight around. “Excuse me? I care very much for the lives of others. Why else would I come here and try to discuss peace with--” but he was cut off by Alura’s clipped remark.

“You care about no one but yourself, clearly.” Alura nodded and the silent guards that had been standing in various corners of the room motionless until now, swarmed around Mon-El and his royal guard.

The tallest of Mon-El’s guards moved first, barking orders at the others as they circled the panicking prince and stood waiting for the others to attack. They all stood frozen in warrior stances, ready to fight and defend against the other.

“What is this about? This is a hall of peace!” Kara exclaimed, unable to help herself. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Just a few moments ago there was arguing, but she never expected it to turn into a brawl like it threatened to now.

Her mother, and the other members of the council looked over to Kara, but said nothing. Alura sent her a silencing look, before turning back to the Daxamite. “Mon-El, Prince of Daxam.” The way her mother sneered his title and name made Kara’s skin crawl. “You and your guards are placed under arrest to await trial for the rape and murder of Sah Krif-El.” And with another nod of her head, the Kryptonian guards descended upon the Daxamites.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! I know it's shorter than usual, but I felt like this was a nice cliffhanger to end this section on. I make no promises for when the next chapter will be posted, but hopefully I'll have it up in another two to three months (I'm writing my dissertation right now, and that has to take precedence, sadly). I promise, I will finish this fic though--even if it takes me another two years. Now that the negotiations are over though, I should be able to write them quicker. Also, now we finally are getting into the exciting part of the story!... Did I mention this was a slow burn? Oops, because it really is.


End file.
